Gravity of Life

A pickles way to the heart

2021-09-02T18:16:00.008+04:00

It was a beautiful Summer Sunday afternoon. I had never ever met her before, I didn't even know her real name. And until she opened that door into her little apartment, with that broad smile and those incredibly pleasing dimples; for me, Avira didn't exist. This story is not a love story, but it's a story about love, food and raw human connection.

It was the year 2020, the world was struggling to cope up with the Covid pandemic and much of the planet didn't know what or when this was going to end. The pandemic not only destroyed economies but also human lives, both physically and mentally. The medical fraternity was in the forefront of the war and they took a lot of the weight upon themselves in giving back and saving mankind as a whole.

I was busy searching for some online groups trying to find some useful resources for my friend's parents who were suffering from Covid and I desperately needed help and the only easiest way was to check much of the online platform for help. Avira was a young doctor and we met in one such medical forum and got talking. Little did I know it was going to change from there on. We spoke much on covid, about the symptoms and much more on the effects of the pandemic as a whole.

I was always fascinated by the name Avira, it gave me a form of deep spell, a word that fills me with zen and love. Never really met someone with that name but when I finally did hear it as someone's name I was silently attracted to her already. It wasn't much for the first day, but by the end of that day, I was very curious to know the person behind that name, who is this, how would she be, and what does she hold. I remember that she was someone who selected her words very carefully, making sure nothing unnecessary was ever let loose and had this impeccable integrity towards her profession.

Over the next few days, we chatted as much, but now it was less of Covid and more of each other, the world around us, friends, life and more about us. She was a woman of less words, she told me about her profession, the challenges she faced in the medical world, and finally about herself, her world for real.

She was married with two beautiful children. At first, I never expected to hear that, but in the end she disclosed even more information on what her world is all about and finally she told how she's been silently dealing with her single parenting juggling her medical profession and the life of her children.

Avira, is an amazing woman. She reminded me of the ocean, she was vast, deep and yet soothing. Nobody could have ever guessed she held so much of a storm within her, but within her abyss, she held love and glory. She was full of life and yet the world had tainted her by giving back so little. With her husband walking away and children far away in her parents possession, she lived a lonely life, filling herself with the life and memories of her patients, making their stories, her own. We spoke for long hours, sometimes not realising that the sun had indeed stepped out for the day. I wouldn't say I found love or I wanted love from her, but there was a deep form of connection, something that made me ask more of her, dissolve into her life, see her life as if it's my own, live her wars and feel her pain. I know, it's a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so deeply. Her only ask in all of this, she never wanted to show herself or give her real name.

And so for months we spoke, laughed, cried and deeply felt connected. A part of me always still intrigued by the fact that I have only heard this person on the other side, yet not seen her face or know her name. But somewhere I did realise that, If we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful truth, a leap of faith in things, down to the abyss, into the dark of unknowns, in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently now probably refer to as destiny.

One day in the Summer of 20, Avira called and spoke to me. She said it was something important. I kept hearing and over the second minute she said she was leaving town for good. She was being posted in another part of the country, far far away. I know we have not met in person, but a part of me suddenly sank. I didn't know what to tell her. I know she changing or moving places is not going to make any difference in my life, but yet, I sank thinking a very special piece of me is going away far. Something in me did not want to give up on this connection, was unwilling to let go, wanted to fight to the very end. Where that part of me got the heart, I don’t know. How can I keep someone so special in the depths of my heart, yet not know her face or the least, her very name. I wanted to see her, see her bad. Finally one day, after sending her entire household on a van, she agreed to meet me, for one last time.

And the day came, it was the end of a Summer sunday, when I landed in front of a door in an old apartment, a small purple light welcomed the entrance, as I rang the bell. I stopped myself to ring the bell again but my hand was just hovering over the button when the door slowly opened and there she was. My eyes finally met the face that has been making me wonder all this long, face to all that voice, an identity to all that's real behind that voice. 'Finally... you've come' she said. Once I was in, I saw her face and I kept smiling indiscriminately, and even before I could speak the next word, she gave me a tight hug and kept looking at me in awe. We both sat down on the floor, as I swiveled my eyes to see all across the living room, the stickers and wall marks, probably left overs of her children while they lived here. We spoke, we laughed and we cherished every little detail we had ever spoken over all those months.

I wasn't planning to stay long. The house was empty, sans life and with everything taken away, I didn't find any reason to stay other than watch her smiling for every question I ever asked of her. Suddenly, she stopped her conversation and asked me if I wanted to share lunch with her. She said this would be her final lunch in this house. She had married, raised two beautiful children, this house has seen it all and now I am leaving this forever now, would you share a small lunch with me, she asked. And so, in that tiny little apartment, with as much heart that was left of it, in that elusive, irrational way I have tried to understand the universe and its relationships, those few moments, I found refuge in her love.

As her final meal, Avira cooked a simple Dal fry and knowing I love eggs, she made a lovely omelette throwing in whatever she could and offered me in a small plate. As we started eating together, I asked her if she had anything extra, a little extra that could compliment the Dal. She immediately got up, ran towards the kitchen, rushed back and told me that she had two little pieces of the lemon pickle, which she made using her late grandmothers recipe, using lemons from their own garden. Being someone who's never fond of lemon pickles, I still offered to take it wondering if I would ever like it. As I ate and pinched my first taste of the pickle and tasted it, I stopped and closed my eyes for a moment. I had never tasted a pickle that good, let alone a lemon pickle that way. I was struggling hard to find a word to tell her what I really felt for that million flavors chasing down my tongue.

Since she was 10, her grandmother collected porcelain jars specially to make pickles every year when the summer comes across, drying the lemons and the mangoes, giving them time to dry and ferment in the luscious mix of spices and oil kept over a years time in closed jars. She told me the whole story of how she learnt it over the years and how she kept it till the end in this very house she's moving away that night. We spent another hour together as the evening sun was gathering over the horizon when I said I would have to leave.

Avira was leaving that night, leaving the house, her life, her memories of this place, decades of stories, all tucked into her for one last time. And before I walked to the door, I reached out to her and gave her something in her hand, it was a volcanic rock, something that I picked in the oceans of Indonesia. Told her this rocks are millions of years old, yet they carry the secrets of perseverance, rigidity but yet permeable to the elements, something I asked of her to be in life, come what may. And then I held her hand and asked if I can have just another taste of her lemon pickle. She smiled and answered 'it takes a whole summer to pack one'... if at all I make it to my lemons, and if at all I survive life, I will send you over some'. I took a small piece of paper and wrote down my address and asked her to keep it. We hugged each other, for she decided long ago that life was a long journey. She would be strong, and she would be weak, and both would be okay. I gave one last look at her and smiled goodbye, when she hugged me again and whispered into my ears; her name, for the first and the last time. We never heard from each other ever again.

On the Autumn of 21, on a rainy day I had my doorbell ring with a guy waiting to give me something. I went down to pick it and asked him who had sent what. He said he didn't know who, but said there was a name written on the box. I asked him the name. He replied 'Avira'.

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Being Others is Easy - Being You is Hard

2017-08-03T11:28:00.000+04:00

We come upon a time in life where we look back at the years that was passed, think about the people who have come and gone and think ponder about if we still are the same person we once were. Where did that person go? Why have I become into this totally different person who am not? Did I change myself, or did someone change me into this person. All our lives we inherently possess a boundless stream of energy, an energy which we draw from the culmination of events which we go through, the energy which people bring and take from us. Summoning this forth, we can break through the shell of the small self that constrains our lives. The process of revolutionizing our own lives and helping others to do the same, can not only transform the society around us, but ultimately elevate the state of humanity by itself.

This article is not about good and bad, its about what we are about to understand finally in the end. Did we make the right choices, did we end up meeting the right people, did we do the right things. These words are about the million questions we end up asking ourselves in the end. Where did we come about and what finally made us to be like this, the we, that we are now. We often consciously blame ourselves that we have done things wrong, but sometimes we don’t understand the subtle influences which people dear to us have brought in us and as age catches up with us, we realize that those influences which have made us happier as a person, stick more harder to us and shape us to be who we are now. Little things like anger, emotions and sentiments stick to us like morning dews on a leaf, slowly sliding into our actions and shaping us from within. If we are to ask, how did I become like this, the answer most probably would be, because we chose to be.

Gunter Grass once said, “People change with time. There are things that happened to a person in his childhood and years later they seem to him alien and strange. I am trying to decipher that child. Sometimes he is a stranger to me. When you think about when you were 14, don't you feel a certain alienation?” I can promise you that what I have seen as a child as certain had its effects while I grew up and those little molecules of pain, harmony, happiness and grief have travelled across the spectrums of my life and have helped me make decisions, have rules my consciousness and have changed the way I saw life once and for all. For children its sometimes a lot harder to visualize the effects of life in those early stages. My parents played a pivotal role in making me the person I am today. Be it small influences like saying no to smoking and yes to casual drinking, my dad kept telling me how cruel the world has become and making me slowly understand that life is not what I thought it once was, it has changed a lot from then. We are in an age where money, power and sex rule the world. May be its just that the world was always changing and often we forget to catch up. We get stuck in a particle of moment which we love, we hold on to it, we never let it go and we live in it for as long as it can be. But then, life has kept moving, the people we knew, the life around us has moved on.

When someone walks into your life, you don’t embrace them initially, you stand up, you give them the distance, you judge them in a very subtle manner, you don’t open your heart. You wait and give them the ropes too slow, for them to catch on, know the best of you. For each of you these moments are very crucial, they mean those very first moves you try to make to understand them a little better each day. The issue happens when you come into a persons life with agendas, with preplanned motives, things which are already in the mind, waiting ready to execute. I guess that little part, changes everything. I have always wished people come in our lives without exceptions, to accept us, to love and to whole heartedly embrace us, as we are. I now realize the hidden truth of it. I guess people don’t change at all, at some point, they just reveal who they really are.

The life around us is very beautiful, the morning, the nights, the seasons, nature, the sun and the stars, everything has remained the same, only man has changed, he has changed a lot and still is. Believe me when I say, being others is easy, being you is hard. With all those values and morals your elders have instilled in you, to live with all the freedom and yet live by the lines, to have money which can buy everything, but still use it wisely, to posses the power to do all wrong, yet do the right thing, that is hard . We have to believe in ourselves that who we are when no one is looking is what means the most to us. If we have chosen the right beyond the bad, if our minds are set to do what is necessary to the people around us. I guess that is all what matters. May be its time to understand that our greatest accomplishments are not in the monuments that we build or the satellites we fire up into the sky, instead its in the lives we have change, the ones who make us matter. In the end its is all that will matter. Because in the end, we cannot change people at all, we can only love them.

When people come in to your life and say your life its not as perfect as it seems, or if its boring and calm. Just take a deep breath and look at yourself a good look. Ask yourself if your happy, if you have loved ones around you, if for you, this world is exactly the way it should be, and if you are content with everything life has thrown you with. If the answers are yes, ‘You have a blessed life and you don’t need anything more’. You don’t need to hide yourself, because your afraid of what others think of you. You have the complete will and choice to live your own life, the way you want, with who you want it, or where you want. This life is truly yours and yours alone.

All our lives we inherently possess a boundless stream of energy, an energy which we draw from the culmination of events which we go through, the energy which people bring and take from us. Summoning this forth, we can break through the shell of the small self that constrains our lives. The process of revolutionizing our own lives and helping others to do the same, can not only transform the society around us, but ultimately elevate the state of humanity by itself.

Marvels of my Heart - Africa Calling

2017-07-21T12:02:00.001+04:00

Miles away, back in the midst of a million emails, overflowing paperwork, I look up to the window, wondering where’s life within these concrete walls. Where my thoughts truly belong, maybe Africa means something more - something I am yet to understand. Maybe it's serenity, its air and its wonders are something I am not able to consciously perceive. I'm drawn across like a firefly towards light, towards God’s creative marvels. Africa, it changes you, it keeps your heart, never to let go.

Very few places steal your heart and leave your body to wander alone; I'd say Kenya was one of them. I took the exotic route of going to Kenya via Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia. With its bustling marketing and people with their interesting hairdo, Addis was a lovely place to see. A few hours at the airport, I kept looking at the huge glass window overlooking the tarmac, where the Boeing 737 was parked for departure. Exactly at 1:45am in the middle of a chilly night I landed in Nairobi's, Jomo Kenyatta International Airport.

I was finally in Kenya.

Greeted by Patrick from Natural Tours, we both drove down to the sweet little bedroom space arranged at Syokimau. Catalyne was her name, a sweet little girl who sacrificed all her sleep just to make sure we comfortably, had ours. After a good night sleep, we were woken up with a lovely breakfast early in the morning. I later came to know that poor Catalyne had slept only for an hour, just to make sure our breakfast was up and ready by early morning.

It was a lovely sunny day across Nairobi, we slowly headed North along the A104 highway to Mount Kenya and the Olpejeta game sanctuary. Oh Africa, how do I even start talking about you. With winding roads and never-ending valleys, we drove across till we reached the Olpejeta park. The game drives began. One by one we started seeing the famous animals we once saw only on Nat Geo channels. The wildebeest was truly one of a kind as they always said it to be. The locals called it a ‘Spare part of all animals around’, meaning, there is no other antelope like the wildebeest. It looks like it was assembled from spare parts – the forequarters could have come from and ox, the hindquarters from an antelope and the mane and tail from a horse. The antics of the territorial bulls during breeding season have earned them the name “clowns of the savanna.”

For when I saw these wild land I grew into a child, a child of my own, to be fascinated and wondered by all of God’s glory and marvel at his miracles. Africa carried a soul like no other. Miles of wilderness and plains, roaming animals and mountains to a thousand miles. The only thing which I felt alien was mankind. I was spellbound by the number of animals I saw over here. It was like how God told Abraham when he was about to kill his son Issac, “You will have children as much as the stars above glistening in the galaxy”. So much animals, so much life in one place and I had to words to describe.

We saw as much and slowly headed towards the evening, when we got transferred to the famous Fairmont Mount Kenya Safari club, which was exactly under the foothills of Mount Kenya. The view was as glorious as the mountain ahead of us. With a snowcapped peak, Mt.Kenya was right under God eyes, with so much glory and clouds gently caressing her by. The Fairmont is quite special because it was once the summer retreat of Hollywoods famous actor Willian Holden. Holden, who fell in love with Kenya on hunting safaris in the '50s (he died in LA in 1981), was known for his active animal conservation in his later years.

When asked about Africa, Holden said “It is the sheer beauty of this stretch of land that sits at the base of Africa's second-highest mountain. This is the most beautiful place in the world," recalls expatriate American Don Hunt, Holden's close friend and chairman of the Mount Kenya Game Ranch, a conservation project set up next door to the club. Fairmont was paradise for me. In the nights that we stayed we could sometimes hear the animals talking to each other, the remote sounds of the sheer wilderness, after all we were within one of natures greatest places, what else can we expect.

A couple of days later, we again took the way up north towards the once active volcano Mount Longonot. Rising from the floor of the Great Rift Valley like a monolith its an amazing sight to watch it as we drove by. It’s unique feature, which is a thick forest that lies within the crater of the mountain. The crater rim also provides great scenic views across the beautiful Rift Valley all the way to Lake Naivasha. A scene to behold when you feel like your on top of the world standing on the crater rim and watching the miles of never ending lands across the Great Rift Valley. This is surely for everyone. If your fit enough and wan’t to have a glimpse of paradise after a 2 hour long trek, I’d say do this, you will never ever regret it.

We reached Lake Naivasha that evening and checked into our amazing property, the Lake Naivasha Country Club. The property is the oldest one still standing after a glorious 96 years. The resort dates back to the 1930s and has since been transformed into a sprawling 55-acre property with special suites close by the lake shore. Lake Naivasha Country Club became famous in the 1930's as a staging post for Imperial Airways' flying boat service from Durban to London. The Old Colonial architecture is solid and comfortable with accommodation in rooms and cottage set in 12 hectares of green lawns shaded by mature acacias and spreading fever trees. In the evenings we had the chance to see water bucks and zebras walk over to the lawns for grazing and in the night, we even had a good glimpse of hippos grazing by the side of our suites.

The manager at the property Mr.Kamal was a true hospitality ambassador, he was up and running all the way from 6am until the dinner at 10pm serving the guests with an evergreen smile and going out of the way to make people comfortable. It was Kamal, who arranged us to spend our night at the presidential suite which was right by the lake shore and there couldn’t have been anything more beautiful than that. We had a lovely boat ride across the lake and Martin who took us out, told us how the water from the lake had slowly seeped into the volcano and made it dead to what it is today. He also made an extraordinary stunt when he told us to watch out for the fishing eagle which would swoop down to take the fish from him. Even though we were quiet thinking unlikely of it, our hearts skipped a beat when the huge eagle flew in from its tree as soon as Martin gave the whistle. Martin was amazing and so knowledgable in his own right. A local of Naivasha, born and brought up, he had his pride close to his heart.

With the colonial style architecture and sumptuous meals and extraordinary service from the staff, the Country Club was truly a serene experience to gather when in Lake Naivasha. In the end, when it was time to leave the place to proceed further to the Masai Mara sanctuary, I felt, there's so much more to Naivasha than meets the eye and it’s well worth more than just a one night's stay.

We hit on our way to our next destination, where the worlds greatest movement of all time was beginning to happen. Where hoofs thunder down on earth, where sandstorms uprise from the gallops, where a million calls hear up to the sky. We were heading to see the great migration; to the Masai Mara. We drove through some of the most treacherous roads I’ve ever seen in my life. Miles and miles of dust trodden, rock battered roads which ran across the widest fields man had ever seen. Here and then I saw a few small towns which people sitting over rocks leading their normal lives. We crossed the final frontier to reach the edges of the Mara River. There we settled up by the Mara River Lodge. A cozy set of cottages and tents nestled by the edge of the lake with a great view of the adjoining cliffs. The Mara River lodge was an amazing place if you want to have a quiet side of life by the Mara sanctuary. The tents give you basic amenities, but thats pretty much all that you need, knowing your staying at the heart of the wilderness. We all sat down for a good cup of coffee by the evening watching as the river slowly moved across its bends passing through the grunting hippos and the evening sunset glittering on its surface. I thought about my life back in the bustling city, one where it fills your heart with nothing but tall skyscrapers, fast cars and busy minds. Concrete and metal don’t hold life. Life is here, life is as we see, life is this… rightly to what the famous author Arundhati Roy tells in her award winning book - God of Small Things. And in it she says “I think the kind of landscape that you grew up in, it lives with you. I don't think it's true of people who've grown up in cities so much; you may love a building, but I don't think that you can love it in the way that you love a tree or a river or the colour of the earth; it's a different kind of love, a love which belongs deep down to the heart”. I see what she says, my heart always belonged to the wilderness, a place where water, animal, earth and fire come together, a place where life meets death and everything in between is magic. Wandering this earth with so much wonder.

That night while we were pondering our Africa thoughts with wine, I felt the grass move on the other side when I took my flashlight and hit it on the trees to see what was happening. A big old tusker was standing there as quiet as possible under the moonlit sky. We all stood up to see how gorgeous he looked with his tusk. Elephants are a true wonder to this world. Nature's great masterpiece, an elephant; the only harmless great thing. It’s such a shame, the world has lost so much of it. A shame that mankind, out of all its glory has lost to understand the the beauty of life and its origins. Sometimes I wonder why God made man, did we ever serve our purpose, or would we ever will. Poaching is destroying Africa in ways I cannot explain. It has saddened me beyond words every time I have seen animals die, ripped apart for nails, tusk and skin and often wonder, where has humanity gone. I wish mankind understands it before its too late. Before this world destroys itself.

“I saw a dead elephant in one of Kenya's natural reserves. Around her were footprints of her baby elephant. This was just so sad, perhaps the mother was still taking the baby around to play and to drink water. In her mind, she probably was thinking they had a life of decades to be together. However, poaching happened, it wiped their memories away. Without the mother, the baby elephant is dead too. That moment changed me.” - Li Bingbing

We went the next day to some amazing game drives, wandering through the top off jeep waiting for nature to run its course. We saw everything from gazelles, to a million zebras and wildebeests and then we saw the lions and cheetahs and the hyenas. I realized how small we are in this world, how minuscule a presence man kind has, the glory of the creator, his infinite wonders. As far as my eyes can see there was Africa. And I didn’t know how to put this whole dimension in words. It’s just so beautiful and you wouldn’t know until you step on her hands and breathe her air.

Very soon, it was time to leave Kenya and head back into the concrete jungle. We bid goodbyes to Mara Lodge’s staff, for they were so special in everything they did. And from there, we again hit the never ending dirt roads to finally reach Nairobi to catch our flight back to Dubai.

I left Africa behind by sight, but will hold on to it as long as I can in my heart. For Africa is mystic; it is wild; it is a sweltering inferno; it is a photographer’s paradise, a hunter’s Valhalla, an escapist’s Utopia. It is what you will, and it withstands all interpretations. It is the last vestige of a dead world or the cradle of a shiny new one. To a lot of people, as to myself, it is just ‘the cradle of life’, once where it all began.

Grandma’s Little Tin Can

2014-10-21T15:22:00.000+04:00

It ain’t a super car, it was not even a proper car, but it was everything that I wanted, it was small, it was sweet and it was the closest to my heart. There are things in life which you don’t realize the value off and then, there are some which become so close to your heart the moment you know who it’s from. This car became so special to me; it was my grandmothers.

Back in the days, I was quiet, a loner. I was one of those children where, if you put me in a room and gave me some crayons and a pencils, you wouldn't hear from me for nine straight hours. And I was always drawing racing cars and rockets and spaceships and planes, things that were very fast that would take me away. I loved cars and aircrafts and I always drew and drew till I satisfied myself that this was the best I could draw. I was a lonely kid but I loved everything what I did.

My grandmother was a legend in her own ways; she lived in ways I couldn’t even imagine. With a lovely bungalow in the centre of the city, which spread across acres of land, she lived like a queen. Even though much of my life, I wasn’t so connected to my grandmother, the last few years I became very emotionally attached to her. I don’t know how I got there, but it was very special and that is all I know. A grandparent’s love is something very unique and I don’t think no one can explain it better than little children on their grandparent’s lap listening to old stories and receiving all the love and affection from them.

“It is as grandmothers that our mothers come into the fullness of their grace. When a man's mother holds his child in her gladden arms he is aware of the roundness of life's cycle; of the mystic harmony of life's ways. “ My grandmother was one great cook and nothing can beat the ways she does the duck and the pork curries. And till now no can beat the tastes and the aroma, which comes, out of her kitchen. She lived a good life and in her final years she wanted to see the world, travel far and see the lands beyond her means. She got herself a car, a sweet little ride; the Maruthi Suzuki 800.

In 2008 after many months of pleading that flying was safe, she finally agreed to come over to meet us in the U.A.E. And once she was here, we had the time of our lives. For once we knew how fun it was to have a grandparent travel on a flight for the first time, make her sit on a SUV and drive across town at 120mph. Take her up on a giant wheel and bring her down on a desert safari. It was so much fun. She loved each and everything and it was so sweet to see her amidst the love and warmth of the family.

Four years on, grandma got sick with illness and slowly her health deteriorated day by day and finally after a prolonged illness she passed away in June 2012. I still remember the day my dad called me up to tell me grandma was no more. I sat there by the window and cried, being far away from home working in a different country, I couldn’t even go to her funeral. For someone who was a loner like me, I know what it is like to be brought up with unconditional love from someone who was so fond of you. In my life happiness came in different ways, but some of the best were from my grandmother. She gave me the littlest of things, but the joy they summed up to was much more greater than the glory of all good things I've received from everyone else. She loved me so much and she left back something very special for me, it was her car, her sweet little tin can of joy.

I was never fond of the Maruthi 800, it’s a very small, cranky little car with no space nor power. It was a thorough tin can inside out and came with inferior plastic all over it. Any young teenager would never want to drive a car like that. In Chennai it was the time of the Audi’s and the BMW’s, with every street turn, there was a German or an American car streaking the city streets and all I had was this sweet little white tin can parked in front of the house.

I was planning to come home for a week's vacation and I was thinking of visiting friends, meet relatives and spend some quality time with family. When I landed home, I asked dad whether I could take the big SUV, but he denied and said, you can only take grandma’s car and nothing else. I was dejected; I scorned that car. I thought what would people think if I drive this car. Being abroad for so many years, I had enough money to buy splashy cars and here I have to juggle up with this tin can; I so hated the look of it.

But still, I took that old key and pushed it inside the old starter lock opening the door to a dusty little object they called a car. I really don’t know what happened after I sat inside the car. I looked around and it gave a ghostly look with clean leather seats, primitive dashboard and no music player, but just a small AC outlet and a clean round wheel to it and no power steering. I slowly started driving and found that it was no easy job to drive this car around town.

I drove for an hour and I cannot explain how the whole idea of how much I despised this car all changed within a matter of an hour. I was zooming in and out traffic, speeding like a rocket out on the roads. The car was like a mini rocket, that 800 cc squeezed out enough power to ram out of the traffic light even before the next Audi could even shift his gear. Whoa, I was so excited to be in the car that I now had a whole degree of excitement that I was driving what looked like a Maruthi, but deep within it had a the flair of a Ferrari. I looked at the fuel tank needle and even after all that driving up and down the city, it stuck to where I saw it in the morning. I was truly impressed looking at this car, I was singing, laughing, making faces at people passing by, I didn’t really realize what was happening to me and it slowly sunk in that I was driving my grandmothers car. I could slowly feel her love and happiness while I sat there in it. It was as if she was holding me tight and saying how much she loves to make me happy, and the least she could do was to give me something she so treasured; her little sweet car.

I now drive the car with so much happiness and pride. Not even a BMW or an Audi can make my head turn an inch. Sometimes its not about what you have, its really about what it means to you. I know a lot of us love to own things, which we have always dreamt about; but a lot of it goes to love and hearts of people who make it happen for us. My Grandmother never really enjoyed long drives with me, nor did she ever go with me on the driving seat; as much as I loved to take her out, God had other plans. But today as I sit in this little car of hers I could feel her love, I could feel her happiness and most of all I see her with me by my side.

May be she is one with God, but I know somewhere out there, she watches me crisscrossing the city streets in this little tin can of hers and that her loving warm hands are wrapping me with all the love I need. In her life, she in her own subtle ways as shown me life can be simple and yet happy. You don’t need the mighty riches of the world to make you happy; all you need is a simple little things which can make you beatific and content within your heart. And with that simple joy at heart, I drive her car with pride and belonging knowing that this might not be the best of cars, not the fastest, stylish or splashiest of its kind; but it was still; hers and hers alone and it'll always be mine at heart.

In The Heart of Nepal

2014-08-12T12:42:00.002+04:00

“We found peace in travel; love in walking around mountains. There while reaching the mountaintop and to look down and see the earth below, I saw the secret of contentment. True happiness is only ever possible if you have been unhappy. And there, at that moment, I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so peaceful. It wouldn’t have been possible for me to take in any more happiness."

I was mere 5 years old when my parents told me that they were going to take me on the flight for the first time and when I asked them where I remember they said a weird name; the name was Kathmandu. They said it was a very beautiful country and that it has a lot of temples and also has the tallest mountain in the whole wide world. I was pretty excited to know I’m going to be on a flight for the first time.

It’s been 26 years since that first flight and here I am waiting to see it back all over again. The last time was when I was a little child out of the big window of that little A319 Indian Airlines in 1988. Nepal still excited me so much just as it did back then. May be because its special since it was my first. And to have landed in that little city holding my mothers hands and to have taken a picture in front of the plane with the magnificent Himalayas at the backdrop, it was indeed very special for me.

I landed in Kathmandu on a cloudy monsoon morning and I true excitement was rushing in my veins with nostalgia filled with every breath. The airport hasn’t changed at all and the I tried to recall as much as I remembered from back then. After picking up my luggage I spotted our hotel driver and headed to our lovely hotel that was pliantly tucked in the Thamel area within the heart of Kathmandu’s shopping districts. After finishing a great breakfast of toast, omelets and fruits I had a deep nap trying to charge myself from the long journey we were up against in a few hours to get ready to rule the evening on the streets of Kathmandu.

That evening I wandered around the famous Darbar square astonished by the old architecture and sat there watching the locals do their daily chores. That evening I tasted our first authentic momos, which turned out to be splendid on the streets. Well talking about street food, there’s just one thing I like to tell you all “If you’ve not been there and If you’ve not tasted it, you just don’t have it”. And for real the moment we had those momos their tastes brought even the trendiest of food shops to its knees. The taste, the flavor and the place just adds to the glory of what street food is all about. So when your there, be there and go for it.

I finished little shopping and the next day I was off to Bhaktapur where I fell to the glory of the red brick district where everything is red and make with red bricks including the roads. I ate the famous Jhu-Jhu which is a yogurt cuddled with honey and very special to this place and got nowhere else. After having a spending evening wandering around Bhakhtapur and its beautiful backdrops, I rushed back to Kathmandu to take the next day bus to Chitwan National Park.

The ride to Chitwan wasn’t easy for a human, with a back breaking 7 hours rolling and winding over the hills we reached Chitwan in a little tin can bus which can only hold 10, but around 15 were cramped into it until it could hold no more. The poor tin broke its wheels and while it was being fixed, we took a stroll enjoying the few moments of freedom our backs could garner. Finally when I did reach Chitwan it looked no less than a sleepy laid back green town with a few white tourist hopelessly searching for drinking water bottles in the street shops.

I made friends with a German girl who came along with a bus, she was a backpacker. After consulting over some costing, she decided to share the accommodation with me over a bunk-bed. We checked in to our not so cozy hotel where they just had a fan and two beds facing to an never ending view of green valleys dotted with a million trees overlooking the mountain in the valley end. The monsoon clouds were looming from the corner ready to drench the town to its knees and we made sure everything was ready for us to tackle the upcoming rains. The evening slowly drained down and we soon found ourselves in a pitch-black hotel with no power for the rest of the 3 hours. Folks from the village were roaming the towns with hand held torchlights for their needs. We took a positive look at the situation and went around for a stroll with torchlights of our own. With a the pitch-black backdrop and a forest right at our doorstep we took petite walks into the silent streets and when we reached the end of the road, I switched off the torches and looked up to see what I would call the most beautiful sky I have ever seen in this whole wide world.

To have stood there watching the dark sky with a zillion stars looking down upon you is a sight I have no words to explain. To live amongst the smallest of happiness, to seek elegance rather than luxury and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy, not expect richness and grandeur, to learn to listen to the birds and the stars. Top open your heart to the unknown, grow up through the common and to live life with the rhythm of the symphony is where all of our living earns its goodness. We both stood there holding hands and gazing the million stars with wonder and amaze. I saw seven shooting stars but never wished even for one. I just didn’t know what to wish for, I guess may be I was overcome with nature’s marvel such that I didn’t know that wishing was part of a shooting star gaze. I left it to be. I just stood there and loved the moment, may be that’s all what I wished for.

The next day, we ventured deeper into the forest on the elephants back and it was truly magical to be there amidst that beautiful forest of Chitwan. The forest was filled with sounds and smell of almost nature’s entire offering. After a 2 hours trek inside the wildlife park we finally made our way out into the village crossing our way through the river back into the village. That noon we packed our bags for the final trip to Pokhara the most beautiful city of Nepal. I was pretty excited to be there, because that’s where I was to meet Harka, my beloved friend; my heart was beating with so much excitement, I could hardly hold myself still.

At around 6pm we reached the heart of Pokhara city and finally on the other side of the road I saw my friend Harka standing waiting to welcome both of us into his beautiful city. We both hugged and warmly got together to talk about how much I looked forward to being here with him. In a while he took us to his house. A few years ago Harka worked in my office as an office clerk helping us with the post and the general clerical work. In 2012 he lost his job and he told me that he was going back to his hometown. I told him things will be well and that he’d be much better off being there with his family. I remember I held his hand and promised him that I will one day come to see his family with mine wherever in Nepal he was. I guess this was that time. In the next few minutes, we met Harka’s wife, daughter Sushma, brother Rajendar and his wife and son.

Harka requested me to stay the first day in his house because he felt it was great honor for him to have us as part of his family. But he always kept mentioning that his house was very small and that we shouldn’t feel bad that we were subjected t staying in such a small and congested space. In fact he lived in a very small house adjacent to a church. It was a one bedroom measuring 6x7 and a small wooden bed with few household were tucked neatly into that small room. At first he was hesitant to show me the room, asking me gently if I was okay to stay here, or if I needed something big. Sometimes the best of love comes from the poor, and in their hearts that I saw the depth of happiness and genuine love, which I haven’t seen in the richest of men. After a lot of thought, I told him that Greta and me will sleep on the side of the church. Smiling along, he and his wife in a matter of half hour converted the church hall into a beautiful cozy bedroom filled barriers outlining the bed. For a few moments I refused to believe if this was the same church hall we saw a few minutes ago.

We settled down for the night sleeping cozy on a bed, which was right in the middle of church and giving thanks to God Almighty we set off to sleep in the safety of our guardian angels.

The next morning we woke up to the sweet smell of brewing coffee and bread toast, after a fun filled chat, we picked up ourselves to check in to a hotel which was a stone throw from the famous Phewa Tal lake which is one of the most prized spot in the whole of Pokhara. From the hotel we could spot the majestic Annapurna peaks covered in cloudy haze. That evening we strolled the lovely lakeside streets shopping and sinking in the beauty of the city and even went around having authentic Newari Thali the staple Nepali food that Greta kept bragging about. Early the next morning Harka brought a spare bike with which we zoomed across to a place called Sarangkot, it took an hour to get to the top, but once we reached the top, the view was worth it. It was like the heavens were opening to our views. We stood there gazing all of nature’s glory while the clouds and winds streamed across us like a mist of harmony.

That afternoon, Harka had arranged for a small lunch gathering at his house, and once we reached we found the ladies of the house were busy preparing food for all of us. With my favourite chicken curry, rice, potato fries and vegetable masala we had quite a filling lunch to be happy about. We gave our final goodbyes to the ladies that day since we were to fly the next morning. Harka held my hand and promised to be there at the airport the next day.

Early morning I woke up to the most amazing view the whole of Nepal could offer; a clear blue sky with the stunning views of the Annapurna peaks glazing through the windowsills. The last day seemed to be the best I’d say. We took a cab and hurried off to the airport and we met Harka and his brother at the airport. We hugged each other and I told him to soon start off with his tourism business where I wanted him to become a full fledged agent who can deal with tourists, their itineraries, travel and all kind of bookings. So that he can learn to pick himself up and earn a living.

There is so much potential for him to do better in Nepal and I asked him to work around ways to get himself successful in becoming an tourist agent soon.

Harka, right now is out of job and the only breadwinner for his family is his wife with a mere NPR5000, out of which 1000 goes as rent and the rest goes for his daughters education. Since English education costs more than NPR8000 (USD 80) per month, the hapless girl has been going to government school so far with no good education. The family has been going through a lot of turmoil and getting a decent job has been really hard for Harka who really wants to support his family. I promised him that I would do something about it and make sure his situation changes. We hugged each other and bid farewell for all the love and happiness he shared with us for the last 3 days. He and brother both bid us with the Nepali shawl wrapped around our neck, which symoolizes a safe trip back home. We waved and bid our byes. Our plane awaited us.

Sushma, Harka's daughter

Harka is a true Nepali gentleman. I have seen his potential and I've sensed his willingness to help. May be if you going to Nepal for the first time, you can take his help. He will help you with everything you may need. His English is a little haywire but he can certainly understand and get things done for you. If you want to help his daughter with her schooling you can contact me and I can help you do something about it. Together as you read, we can change someone’s life for the better.

In Nepal, We found peace in travel; love in walking around mountains. There while reaching the mountaintop and to look down and see the earth below, I saw the secret of contentment. True happiness is only ever possible if you have been unhappy. And there, at that moment, I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so peaceful. It wouldn’t have been possible for me to take in any more happiness.

Life as it should Bee!

2014-06-23T18:24:00.000+04:00

The first time I saw her; one whack and I wanted to kill her right there, but something kept on telling me that I shouldn’t. I didn’t feel sorry for her, but somewhere I just felt that I was wrong. It’s just an insect damn it, said my mind. But still, I just let go of her, and off she flew with a little leaf bud tucked under her bright yellow belly. I bet she’s coming back!

It was a fine weekend morning; I was just woke up with the sun shining bright on my face and jiggled out of my cozy comforter to stand a while out on the gazing sun. The warmth was as if, it has just tossed a spoonful of butter on an oven-baked bread, it was melting and sinking in slowly. I turned to have a look at the flowers in my garden and slowly gazed down on my bright white jasmine flowers and was stunned to see many of the leaves missing.

I was stupefied to see that many leaves from my jasmine plant were either missing or cut in little circles; exact to the shape of a semi-circle. They looked really in bad shape and I was furious to know what really happened and who was behind it. I yelled to my wife and called her out and asked her if she knew anything about this. And she was as clueless as I was. I pulled out a chair and wanted to take a closer look at the state of my leaves. I was saddened by what I saw. My whole plant looked terribly deformed.

I pulled in a chair to have a close look at the leaves and why they had cuts of semi-circle on them and while I was seriously looking at it, I heard this little buzz and a small bee like insect just barged in between my two hands and sat on the most good looking leaf. And then before I could shoo it off, she slowly started to cut the leaf in a perfect semi circle; folded the leaf into her belly and before a wink of the eye; flew away. I was truly thunderstruck when I saw this and my heart was beating furiously thinking, the next time I see this damn insect I am going to burn it alive or squash it with a fly swatter.

And then I saw around, to all the leaves in my plants, and many of them were torn or either deformed because of this stupid insect. The sun was getting bright, and I took my fly swatter and waited outside, expecting her to come back for another try and probably her last. I waited and waited, but she never came. I thought may be sometime later I will get a hold of her.

That evening while I was having coffee, I again heard that little buzz and there again I saw that little devil trying to steal a part of my beautiful garden. I took the fly swatter and patiently waited so that I could be in range of hitting her dead. The time did come, and while I was aiming for her, something just stopped me. I looked closer again on what was she doing, the way she folded that leaf and cuddled it into her belly was astonishing. Why would a bee cut the leaves like this and take them away? Where is she taking it and what is she doing with it? Perplexity took over me. I don’t even know what’s the name of this bee, how am I going to find it?

I took to my laptop and started typing the common symptom on what happened to my plant and bang, in the 3^rd try I got the answer. She was none other than a leaf cutter bee, her biological name Megachile Rotundata. She belongs to a solitary bee species that are found almost in all of the continents. Weird enough, she doesn’t build or is part of any colony or neither does she store any honey. But apparently she is a very effective pollinator. I went on to read further and it said, females that are reproducing create nest in small holes that are composed of a string of individual cells. Each cell is made from circular disks cut from plant leaves using her mouth, hence the name ‘leaf-cutter’. While the bees actually do not store honey or pollen, they do store a few into each cell for the larva to feed on.

Now I was in a dilemma whether I really needed a leaf cutter bee around my garden or do I need nice looking plants with good-looking leaves on them. I feel we all get into a point of our lives when the good doesn’t come in a form we like it in. We either churn our teeth and accept or whole-heartedly remove them. And then there are those times, we neither want them, nor want to kill them. In the following weeks, I stood there many of the evening with the fly swatter trying to whack out the little one, but every time she was in aim, I would take my hand down thinking she’s doing what she has to do for her young. She’s so busy doing what nature has programmed her to do. She didn’t care where she was or what I was about to do to her, but every day, dawn till dusk, she hurriedly came in search of my garden, sat on each leaf, checked for the best one, sat on it; cut it to a perfect semi circle, tucked it into her little yellow belly and left to her nest where she will cuddle the little one into it filled with a drop of pollen and nectar.

“The search for nature’s truth is in one way hard and in another way easy, for it is evident that no one can master it fully or miss it wholly. But each adds a little to our knowledge of nature, and from all the facts assembled there arises a certain grandeur.” – Aristotle

And that was true; for I never knew there was an insect like this and I never knew she could cut leaves with so much precision and I would have never known that my plants needed her as much as I needed them. Leaf cutter bees are some of the best pollinators and they do no harm to the plants by cutting their leaves. May be the aesthetic beauty goes down a little, but in the end you have a beautiful flowering garden which becomes a pride for you and you alone.

I looked back at my stupid actions, but I feel nice to know that it wasn’t late after all. May be with life, the same things happen to us, we do not foresee, we do not look closer, or may be we don’t bother to know more on many issues which on the outside just look as mere rotten problems which don’t need any attention at all. But deep within lies a purpose, an enigma of details, which will make the difference in our lives. The problems may be big or miniscule but when we look closer; that’s we get that profound vision to know more on the unknown. The next time you see anything, and if you feel it’s a problem, look closer, understand it better, for; things aren’t always what they seem.

As for her; she flew away, had kids and my garden looks a little clumsy with cut on leaves but it blooming and beautiful to look at. There are many bees, each doing precisely what they’re supposed to do. I sit beside them watching them zoom over, knowing that nature can never be questioned, but just understood; the same way our lives can never be understood, they can just be lived well.

“Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn't know it so it goes on flying anyway.” We all know our lives will eventually end one day, but still we fight, struggle and survive and that journey is what makes it all worthwhile."

Out and about in Umm Al Quwain

2014-02-24T17:39:00.000+04:00

Sitting down by the balcony with a coffee in hand, it seemed all so unusual to me to sit amidst towering concrete and bustling traffic and uncannily think that just an hour from here, there is a tiny city out there where life is just the way its supposed to be. With calm beaches and untouched mangroves, the beauty of flamingoes gracing in the distance, the thought of UAQ will always be bliss to ponder about even for the die-hard travel bug.

This graceful emirate just an hour away from Dubai was such a splendid adventure the moment we stepped into it. We drove via Shk Mohd Bin Zyed Road formerly called the Emirates road (E311) and after some 80 or so kilometers we reached this serene silent city of Umm Al Quwain. My first impression was that I never expected this city to be this quiet. The traffic, people and the infrastructure of the city was so different than what I would expect in Dubai or any other emirate, but I guess that is what UAQ is all about. It’s different and untouched; away from all the hustle and bustle of a regular city. If you’re here, the city takes care of you. You can let yourself free and wander around in the lovely beaches or take a drive around the old city. The city is all for yourself to engage and enjoy.

With little islands dotted all around its space, UAQ makes a great place for water-sport activities like snorkelling, diving, crab hunting, bird watching and much more. But in the recent days I found out that my most favorite sport of jet skiing was missing and that people who own a jet ski are the ones who usually make use of the clear blue waters for the sport. UAQ Marine club who usually rent out Jet Ski’s are no longer renting the skis anymore. But they do give out boats, canoes and other diving expeditions. The local people are very friendly and can help you with anything from routes to car fixing to boat rides. But just be cautious on who you approach into. Not everyone seems to be the same as the ones we saw.

A stay at the Flamingo Beach Resort would work out to be a great weekend getaway for couples and families, since their rates are good and they have a well packaged itinerary of stay, breakfast, dinner and crab hunting all set into a great deal which would be a great one for anybody who wants to get out the busy city life for a couple of days. Yes, here are the tips when you get out for the crab hunting. They are not going to give you individual lights and since all the lights are fixed to the boats, it will be really uncomfortable for you to run behind the crab and the boat at once, so if you do have a spotlight on your own, do take it along. And the resort gives out rented shoes for AED5/- please wear them, don’t use your own shoes as the mangrove mud is quite a nuisance to get away from, and once you miss your shoes, there is no guarantee you will find it in the rather muddy waters and it’s a 100% that you will regret your choice while the rest of the team is busy hunting crabs on the other side. So go ahead and rent that shoe or its even fine if you don’t wear one at all (Just pray no crab should bite ya!

I bought and wore my Crocs for the first and last time for the crab hunting and it was gone in that same day. What a loss!

And in a futile effort am trying to get back my Crocs slipper somehow and yes, if you ever happen to find one blue crocs slipper out there in the mangroves, do pick it up for me and let me know about it 😋

Assuming you have a car, do take it for a spin around the city, King Faisal road runs all across the center of the city, right from E11 all the way to old town, so driving on it, you will pretty much cover the entire city in one go. Here’s one interesting tip, if you living in UAE and heading back home, do visit the Emirates Discount Center for some really good discounted groceries, am sure their prices will stun you for sure. Also get around the city for some shisha and coffee, spend your evening wandering and just let yourself loose and get lost for a while, its all worth it.

While you’re at the old town, you will surely come across an old fort, which is the one, and only surviving fort in the center of the old city. The fort is an interesting place and a must see when your in UAQ. Just park your car inside the fort wall and for AED4/- you will have the pleasure of getting back in time by seeing all the artifacts showcased in there and also a very interesting way of knowing the Arab culture and how people lived in UAQ back then. There are also well-preserved living quarters and work places of the ruler of UAQ and this fort was established back in 1770’s and was pretty much the government building till the 1960’s. And while exiting, don’t forget to write a few words on the red guest book, just so you leave a few of your words of legacy behind.

There are also some interesting spots in UAQ, which are also worth visiting. The IMAR spa for women is a great place to head out if the ladies want to take a break of their own, while the boys spend time in boats and canoes. Both the Palma Beach Resort and the Pearl Beach Resort are some of the other famous resorts within the area, which offer a wonderful place to stay and can make your weekend stay a pleasurable one in UAQ.

Once you feel like you’ve had enough of the old city, pack your bags and head out back to E11 towards Ras Al Khaimah and in 30 minutes you will hitting Dreamland Aqua Park, which is one the most sought after water parks in UAQ. You can pretty much spend a whole evening out there, the rides are pretty decent and family can have a great deal of fun if everyone is around the pool. Well, if you’re not that water park kind of person, then just take a reverse and head out to the famous Barracuda Beach Resort for some research on intoxication. Here’s where the whole of UAE heads for duty free liquor. And the moment I stepped into the booze shop, I was astonished by the ambience of the shop. I wouldn’t in a 1000 dreams thought of a place like this in the middle of UAQ desert serving more than 100 brands of liquor from all corners of the world.

You really need to be there to believe it. And the best part is, its got no cap on how much per person can buy; you got the cash, have your bash, that’s all am saying! And here’s the tip: Occasionally you might find yourself heading straight into a cop car on the way, incase you guys are travelling as a family, they usually don’t mind checking the car, but if your driving as bachelors; cross your fingers; you’re screwed.

Speeding back on the E311 towards Dubai, we were home within the next hour and sitting down by the balcony with a coffee in hand, it seemed all so unusual to me to sit amidst towering concrete and bustling traffic and uncannily think that just an hour from here, there is a tiny city out there where life is just the way its supposed to be. With calm beaches and untouched mangroves, the beauty of flamingoes gracing in the distance, the thought of UAQ will always be bliss to ponder about even for the die-hard travel bug.

Photo Credits : Google and many more people's amazing work. I don't own the rights for the images appearing on this post.

Tearing Down the Maharaja – Air India 182

2014-02-11T16:48:00.001+04:00

Air India Kanishka landing in Heathrow

It was a flight full of hopes and dreams, a flight full of life. 329 souls with aspirations and dreams, all soaked into the icy deep blue sea in a matter of seconds and all what’s left of them are memories and legacies the world is yet to take notice. Air India 182 is a message of hope, remembrance and perseverance, which will silently stream into our hearts for the many more decades to come.

I was a little 2 year old when this incident took place, but over the years of my life, I’ve heard a number of times when my dad and mom used to talk about the Air India Kanishka’s tragic bombing and how so many innocent people lost their lives in a tragic incident which was of no fault of theirs. And since my mom herself was an Air India employee it made a deep impact on us knowing that something so tragic has happened within. I always wanted to be a pilot and Air India was my source of inspiration over many years, looking at the Boeing 747’s and their Airbus 310’s and flying exclusively on discounted tickets, it used to be my foremost glory to be taken to the cockpit for a quick glance on what’s happening out there between the pilot and those million switches.

Air India Memorial at Stanley Park, Vancouver

Little did all those 329 souls know that small group has been secretively thinking to blow up planes from the sky for intensions of their own; little did they know.

It was just a bright sunny morning when Air India flight 182 flying the Montréal – Heathrow – Delhi route took off from Canada heading towards UK’s coast. People will happy families, came in to drop off their loved ones with sunk hearts bidding farewell and hoping that they would be reaching their homes safe and sound. While deep under the cargo hold lay a silent brown suitcase filled with a timing device ready to blow up hours from then. With 82 little children on board and with a crew of 22 assisting them, flight 182 took off from Montréal’s Mirabel airport on its way to London Heathrow.

At 07:14 GMT on 23^rd June 1985, while flying gracefully at 31,000ft, Air India flight 182 vanished from the radar 120miles off the Irish coast and only at around 09:30GMT ships from the local area discovered the wreckage and the world came to know that Air India flight 182 had indeed been blown midair out of the sky by a bomb and that no one from the 329 survived. Later 131 bodies were recovered by the rescue teams and sent it to Cork Hospital, Ireland for identification by family members; the other 197 were lost at sea.

Plaque at Bantry, Ireland

Its been 29 years now and I cannot expatiate the account of how much this incident pains me at times knowing that a single man’s faith in wrong notions have caused the death and destruction of 329 families spanning across 3 continents and 7000 miles. In the happenings that followed after the tragedy, families of the victims constructed a memorial in Bantry at Cork Country, Ireland, where the people from the city of Bantry opened their hearts for the bereaved and gave them comfort by opening their homes, feeding them, consoling them and for sharing their tragic loss. "Had that terrible disaster not happened, we would never have known a nation of the kindest people in the world — the most compassionate," said Lada Pada, who lost her husband and two daughters to the tragedy. "Strangers opened up their homes to us and their sense of identification with our grief was unimaginable. They kept saying, ‘we are a seafaring nation and we have grown up all our lives knowing what disaster is." And for this deed of humane love and compassion, the Canadian Government erected a commemorative plaque for the people of Bantry, Ireland reading the lines “In their time of greatest need, you opened your hearts and your homes. For caring for them, when they were far away from home, Canada is eternally grateful” and to this day every year on the 23^rd of June, all the families of the victims who perished in the tragedy make their way to Bantry, from all over the world, to join hands in remembrance of the loved and lost.

The Air India Kanishka tragedy has changed my life in many ways and from the day forward I’ve learnt to live and give thanks of what rewarded to me in life. The people around us, the social bonds we garner and the immense love we inherit from our loved one. I guess this is that bond which keeps us going for the many years to come, that love which makes us go across boundaries and across miles of uncharted territories. I’ve come to understand that deep within tragedies lies an alliance of long lost love which people seek during their loss and in time that loss slowly transforms itself into a strong connection between home, cities and nations. And with this incident, the many families who’ve lost loved ones, have made strong connections with the many families in Bantry over time and now live as one big family and to look at how these relationships have been forged is just awe-inspiring.

Lata lost her entire family in the tragedy

Flight 182 will always be close to my heart, not only because its left a lasting legacy in my life, but it has transformed itself from an incident to a system of change, which resulted in the rectification of worldwide security processes and personally churned out a revolution for change in reforms both politically and personally. Many people who were directly affected in the tragedy went on to become great personalities of their own, transforming the communities they live in and every day strive for its refinement.

Amidst every sorrow lies hope, hope that will drive us towards free will to achieve something better, hope that makes us dare into the abysmal abyss. It is with these hopes that human life revives itself after every incident and picks itself up again to cover those sorrows and leave behind a better path, worth for glory. Every now and then, when I fly, the laughter of children and pleasant farewell of loved ones come to my mind. I think of what legacy I leave behind, the memories and the little pleasures of life. I can only be thankful to God.

Dedicated to all the 329 souls and their families who have lost their loved ones to the Air India-182 bombing of 1985. May their souls rest in peace and may the Almighty lead the rest of their lives with harmony and peace.

Mad over Mumbai

2014-01-22T17:45:00.001+04:00

“There is something about Mumbai, the colors of the city, culture, the pace of its people and the way the city has evolved over time. Mumbai is a city full of life, tolerance and learning. Every city has a soul, meri Mumbai has one of its own too.”

Having had a plan of just 5 days, my Mumbai trip was packed beyond gaps and fills, the only time I had to negotiate within was how to get and where. Since friends planned the entire trip, I was clueless over where we were heading to in any part of the day. The first step I took into the Airport thrilled me beyond recognition, Mumbai airport certainly rocks and my first glimpse was worth it. The newly done airport looked close to a very well done International airport, and I liked the fact that they had a huge viewing gallery as you walk past the lounges. I've always loved to stand by the lounges and glaze at the wonderful landings and take-offs, its something which is such a delight to watch.

I always imagined Mumbai as one of the greatest Indian cities and my imagination wasn’t wrong after all. From the daily chores of the people to its specialties, the city just has everything to offer for every class of the people. You can see anyone from driving a bicycle to someone roaring over in a Rolls Royce and you can watch it over on the same road. Mumbai is not a city, it’s a perfect class room for the whole world to enjoy. Its for people who want to survive, and believe me this city will make you learn life in ways of its own. One of my close friends told me one time that out of all the 40 years he has lived world-wide, his Mumbai living was the closest to his heart, because of everything the city taught him. He said "that city has given me a second life, and whatever I am today, I owe to that city; it ain't a city to me, she's my life's teacher"

I have heard so much about Mumbai’s cuisine and being there, I didn’t want to miss any of it, so for all the 5 days I stayed in there I made sure I never headed across into a restaurant and I stuck to the best of Mumbai's street foods. From paani puri’s to vada phav’s I made sure I never missed anything from the menu. One day it was pure chat, the other day it was something else and not to mention that you can never walk home hungry in Mumbai, every nook and corner of every damn street in the city you will see 4 to 5 people holding their hands with a small cup, waiting for the paani puri guy to give them a puri right on. It’s the fashion and it’s the way the city functions. All you need is a little money and your tummy is sorted out. From Linking road's Jai Jawan Kababs to Old Bombay's Bademia's wraps to the amazing biryani, each and every day filled me with immense amazement on how much a single city like Mumbai had to offer. Later one night, friends took us to Juhu beach at 12am in the night where we had malai gola and mouth watering rubdi. After 3 sittings of asking him for more malai; which he never denied, we finally gave into our tummies and moved on home driving through the wonderfully done Worli-Sea face.

In the following days I had the chance to explore the 4 corners of the city from places like Andheri, Mulund, Goregoan, Vile Parle, Dadar, Chedda Nagar, Chembur and there were so many more, and myself and friends literally criss crossing the entire city from all sides. From meeting friends to standing in Paani Puri queues it was an exciting journey all through from start to end. In between, there was so many buildings and bridge construction going on in Mumbai city, its like there is a huge construction boom heading out in full throttle and the prices of each home made me go bonkers. Mumbai right now is one of the costliest places to live in. That news literally shocked me; the cost of houses go up from 80lac to around 5 or even 6million rupees. I used to think millions are just figures people use when we hear about companies buying other companies, but here in Mumbai, houses are sold on these prices. I could see people who cannot afford the rates are moving farther and farther away from the city center, trying to buy affordable accommodation away from the city. Like i said, the city has everything from people living in a one room home, to billionaires building 20 storey houses just for themselves.

I never knew too many people in Mumbai, I just had one friend and she was Isha. She's that one and only person I ever knew out of Mumbai. Isha never knew that I was coming down to Mumbai and it was a pleasant surprise that I arranged for her, by dropping in at her office and asking her receptionist to call her out for a courier. And I cannot explain that lovely moment when Isha did finally come out to see me and there was flabbergasted with excitement and stunned with shock, we both hugged each other and had a million stories to share with each other. Isha knows me for the last 5 years and we always dreamed and spoke about the day where we’d finally get to meet each other and finally December 27^th 2013 was the date destined for it. Myself, Isha and the group wandered around in the Oberoi Mall in Goregoan area and later on went to do another sitting of paani puri. We sat and spoke all the years of talking we had with each other and it was so lovely to finally be in the warmth and likeness of someone I so wanted to meet and it was just unfolding right in front of my eyes. Finally I met my friend.

From weddings to parties to what not, the stay in Mumbai kept me busy all day and night with something happening all day long. On the final leg of the journey, we stayed at my friend Ajhu’s place in Thane and it was just as amazing as Mumbai was, with all its lovely roads, mountain sides and awesome houses. I had the chance to meet “Chikkidoo” who was their Labrador; the sweetest and the bubbliest of its kind I’d say. Chikkidoo loves to be pampered and loved, if you run your fingers through her and suddenly take it off, she is so cute enough she will put her leg on you and ask for more… Thane gave me the opportunity to meet some amazing people, from Ajhu’s family to my very close ex-colleague Gaurav who came to meet us at 1am in the night and took us to his beautiful family who waited and welcome us at 1:30am with coffee and juice. I didn’t know how to thank them all for their lovely and warm hospitality, but its just amazing to know that these relationships exist and that’s all one needs in life. Happiness and people around is all what you need.

On the last day, Ajhu finally gave in to my constant annoying and took us to the Gateway of India, where I stood there amazed by this structure which was built for the King and Queen of England in 1911 to formally welcome them into India. Beside that was the amazing Taj Mahal hotel, which was badly hit by the terrorist attack of 2008. Both the structures complemented each other with their presence and it was a heavenly sight to stand amidst their presence and finally feel that delight of India running through you. After having a gulp of kabab wraps from Bademia’s we drove through the busy roads of Mumbai reaching Thane just to get on with the packing for the next day’s flight back to Chennai and from there on back to Dubai.

From crazy traffic snarls, to brunches on the roads, to people moving faster than life, to houses costing a million bucks, Mumbai’s got it all. The pace of the city transforms each of its citizens into this bubble of big hope in which each of them can survive in any city of the world if they have to. Mumbai is home to millions of people who have come in faith of this wonderful city and am sure, it hasn’t let them down. It’s a city with a soul and it has seen more than it could handle, but still the city has been moving and gearing on to welcome itself into the next century of the super cities. For me Mumbai is an amazing combination of love, excitement, craziness and humility, it’s a mix of a modern cultures blended with traditional values with a super speed economy driving it nuts. I really don’t know how many could handle the flair of living in Mumbai. But I did; just fine!

My sincerest thanks and love to all the lovely souls who in their own pleasant ways made this trip a most amazing one for me, and their names as I cheerfully remember them : Anand, Subha, Himani, Mansi, Mugdha, Dharshan, SriRaj, Nouvea, Ajhu & Roshni, Lakshmi, Vijayam Aunty, Rajini Aunty, Sunitha, Sameera and many more.

Why do we die?

2013-08-27T13:47:00.000+04:00

“If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.”

We all die, yet death is such a mystery we never choose too much to ponder about. We all live a life trying to make as much worth of it possible. Making relationships, bringing up families and garnering the fruits of a life well made, and then a day comes when we have no time to look back. We leave even before we pack our bags and there’s never a time to say goodbye to our loved ones. Life is like that, or more; death is like that.

I recently came to know that the fish guy who used to sell me fish from the local super market is no more. I saw him just a week back smiling and doing his chores at the market. We used to occasionally talk and he used to share about his family, stories from back home and much more. He always said he wanted to go back to his family in India, start a small business there and live the rest of his life happily. But then when I heard yesterday that he’s no more, my heart pushes me to a stack and makes me think once again on what life is all about. The joys and sorrows of this lively world is as much as it can take us, and then one day its goodbye time and there we go out again, with no time to hardly say a bye to the world we so adored and lived.

His family of 4 stands shocked to listen of his demise and stranded they are without no words to offer for the loss they will be going through in the coming days with him nowhere by their side. I think of that many souls who have passed away like this, including my father-in-law who so loved to see parts of this world before he could breathe his last. God took him too far, too soon and we keep looking at the stars thinking he’s up there knowing all is going well under his watch. Death is mystifying in its own ways and nobody of us can understand its meaning or its cognoscibility. All we understand is, there will be a day when it happens, and we just need to put that little thought in our mind and go our ways doing what we like best. The rest would taken up to history.

There is a kind of life that leads to death, and there is a kind of death that leads to life. It’s true; when I see people doing things which they are not asked for, but still do it with just one cause, and that is to make the lives of someone better. And trust me when I say this, There is no greater love than this. There is no greater gift that can ever be given. To be willing to die, so another might live well – and there is no greater life which can be lived than this.

Perhaps the only joy we ever get in life is that someone out there is a little better and a little happier because of us and their joy radiance's in our heart now and then knowing that we have done much than the happiness what we wanted to garner, and that feeling I think is pretty much what I always tell myself “Giving is something no one can take away from you, it just keeps following you the rest of your life”… That joy when you see your child running with the ice cream, or your wife with the little cake you made or the visit you gave your grandmother; those are the little cups of joy which will surpass the worldly joys of living life. And now and then when I get to see clear night skies, I do stand still and look up and rejoice on the lovely galaxy glaze of what the Almighty has done above. Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to letting us know they are happy with who we’ve become to be.

There are lots of people have lost over the years. I love to have them back, when I was young I never understood what death was, which takes away what we love in a streak moment of time. That power above which; in one swing, can take away what we owned for years. I love to have my grandparents, my lost friends, my cousin whom I so loved. Where did they go, who took them, when will I get to see them again? I know a million questions stand between me and the mysteries of life and all I have is no answers and just a feeling of lost. If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love I trust, lives forever.

Science tell we die because our cells age, and that each chromosome lives its strand the way it was coded and then the air we breathe slowly ages our bodies till every cell gives up on us and we lay there for time to take us by. In time, we have learnt that age is our clock, to help us look at ourselves and make us understand that we have duties to do, responsibilities to take and lives to make. Our act on Earth is well defined into the glory of our existence and everything which revolves with it works out to what we define of ourselves and in time, we slowly understand that we die, not because we achieved so much, but because we lived it well. It’s as though every man dies but not every man really lives.

Sometimes it makes me laugh when I think of the notions of death. The ideals I stick today will not mean anything at that point; the struggles, the pain and everything will come to an end. It’s like God telling us that, you’ve lived it and now you’re free to go. All you get to leave behind is a legacy of your own, a legacy which will follow you through based on the choices you have made. A name you have earned and garnered over the years you’ve lived over here. “Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over... Death is not anything... death is not... It's the absence of presence, nothing more... the endless time of never coming back... a gap you can't see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes no sound...” It will come like a breeze of the night and take you away like a dream, we can only wonder at its glory.

And in the end, what we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal. Those little joys we share with our loved ones, the favors we went out of our way for a stranger and the happiness we sparked for our children is all what will stay of us. The dust will slowly segue over our bodies and clear the sounds of our existence and the only whispers our loved ones would hear are the ones which will come in their dreams giving them a smile in their sleep. When there is so much glory to life, Life? It's Death that makes life worth living for.

The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered...In some way or the other, we someday get to realize that. And yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human. But if you have found that, in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world and to the people around you, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful to myself and the Lord Almighty.

And like what Steve once said :

“.. Almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

P.S : Some of the pictures are for illustrative purposes only and are not owned by me.

When Do You Really Matter?

2013-07-24T14:57:00.000+04:00

"There comes a point in our lives when we realize who really matters, who never did and who always will"

Travelling alone sometimes for work, I drive a 100 miles through cities, beaches and mountains. The views are great, I enjoy those sunsets, the birds flying over and the the drive by itself.

Every now and then, I think about the people who would be missing me while am away, a few souls who'd always wonder and worry where I am now.

How many times, have we in our lives tried to think, how much do people love us? Do they love us for who we are, or do they love us for what we are to them. What matters is how much do we matter to them. How much to the ends of the world would these people be willing to go for us. Who are these people anyway; our family, our siblings, friends or strangers. I never had a 100 friends, but have had a very few who have changed my life in its due course, I'd say that these were the people who molded by life eventually to who I am now. Tweaking my life to the very ways I am used to now, I always feel thankful for meeting them. Some of them I still hold hands and talk to.

But there are some who have moved on, and there are some who are going away. Where do they go, why do they go away is a big question in my mind. Why they came into my life is question I don't have answers to, or may be I just don't want to answer it. They came in for a reason and I loved what they did for me, for I wouldn't have survived without their presence. But in the due course of time, I start to love them unconditionally, get used to their love, their affection and suddenly when time changes and I feel they are straying away from me, I feel a sudden essence of pain churning in my heart. Why are they going when they know how much they mean to me? Don't they know that I love them unconditionally and that they mean a lot to me. Why can't they just understand my pain. When I think of all this, I do understand that, you can never force anyone to stay and love you forever. Love and Life just moves on and life does find a way. When you do matter a lot to that person, I guess you'd just know it from their eyes.

During my University days, when I used to spend my best of days with my closest of friends, there are moments, when some of them have held my hand and said "No matter what happens, I will always be there for you"... Well it so happens that, we all make a choice somehow. What ever that choice is, it sometimes is so hard to understand its depth. They say, "Though we aren't able to control the people that we meet, we sometimes do have control over who we want to stay with". It so happens that sometimes, even if you try the most to keep a friend with you, it so happens that there comes a rift so sleek that all you can do is hopelessly watch it get bigger as each day passes. Without words, without smiles, without the slightest of emotions shared, you will see this right moving farther and farther away from you and one day you will see your friend so far away from you that he or she would no longer be able to even hear your words, and beyond that moment, am sure nothing can sometimes set things right. Its like a crack on a glass-wall; its done and done forever.

As I grew up in my life, I know how many people have moved away and on how many I have done the same thing. There have been moments where I forced people to stay, telling them how much they mean to me, and there have been moments where I've told people to leave because its the end of the road. As we mature, we come to realize that there is a point in all our lives when we have to be strong and willing to let people go. Sometimes people you meet in your life come in for various reasons, some come because they find you attractive, some come because your make their life worthwhile, some come since you give them what they lost. Some will try and judge you, condemn you, and there are some who will stay just to reap the benefits of your achievements. The point is who ever these people are, you have the choice to retain them or loose them. And time can only be your partner is saying what really happens.

As it goes, when you think of friends, specially closest ones you know they'll be there every single second of your life. You know they look up at you at all times, thinking, hoping and wishing the best to happen in your life just like you think for them. I like friends like that, who stand by and don't leave. Friends who you can trust your life with. Share your darkest secrets and still feel free, spend time and still have no track of time. Be there shoulder to shoulder and who promise to stand by you for all what you are, and for all what you've been for them. I am someone who goes that extra mile to share the best of my love for friends I have, I honor their very presence, and love them unconditionally because I know they will stand and be there when I need them most in my life. But sometimes it so happens that when there comes a point in life when you see them drift away in this world of never endings, you feel that you no longer matter to them as much as you did before.

When I listen to the word, "I am busy, can we talk later?" I just feel wrecked and weak. Its a symbol of brokenness that comes when two people don't matter to each other anymore. Busy is just a parenthesis, when someone has better things to do, than spend time with the other person. Its a genuine way of saying, your wasting my time. Well, I'd say, busy is just a damn word. Its all about importance and priorities. When your important to someone, you will never stop thinking to leave the world aside and come for them. Yes, if you really matter to someone, that person will always have time for you. No excuses, no lies; and no broken promises. Sometimes the hardest decisions of our lives are to whether stay and try harder or take your memories and walk away for good.

As for me, I don't have regrets. I will try my best to let my friends and loved ones know that I love them unconditionally and that I will always have time for them, come what may. I know this ever changing world will bring in a hundred more challenges to eat up time, but in the corner of my heart, I know where each of them stand, and I will make it up for them. But will they do the same thing for me; only time will tell.

And this to the world I so love, this is for all of you : In your lifetime you will find and meet people who will love you more than anybody you've ever known and will know. They will love you with every single thing they've got and with the best of their soul. They will sacrifice, surrender and abuse themselves and yet give you so much more that it scares you. Someday you'll understand it as love and someday you'll get to know who it was.

Don't let go of that moment!

Fireflies of Eden

2013-06-05T17:14:00.000+04:00

As I look down on the years we have lived, it just makes me laugh. Feels like she was just born yesterday, that little ball of flesh they gave me to hold. Wrapped in a white towel like a little ball of cheese. With curly hair and eyes shining bright, I held her thinking, how more beautiful can a child be? Now, I have someone to play, someone to control and most of all someone to look after. And 21 years later, I look at the wonderful years which have passed me by. Those amazing times I have spent with her, enjoying the finest of her love and wrapped in affection for all these years from one of the most loved girl of my life. My little darling sister “For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.”

I can still remember how lovely those years were, back in the day when we both needed to go to school, with me in my grey and white uniform and she with her brown and red skirt. Just 4ft tall, she stood by the front of the scooter while we both went in the winding roads of Chennai off to school. With her pigtails and those cute looking spectacles it was one of a sight. Every time while we drove up the bright, the bike didn't have enough power to move both of us, and while I scooped down my feet to push the bike, she used to jump in the front with all the cute noises she could make. And once we reached school, she would give me a nice warm hug, a peck in the cheek and a sweet smile. Those kisses are just as warm as yesterday.

Dad always loved Nivetha more.
Well, maybe I just didn't understand it back then, but when I grew up to be a man, I know exactly why. Dads love their girls, and they do unconditionally. And its that feeling that every girl has, that whoever she gets will treat as much as their dad’s did. Sometimes even when the mistake was clearly her, I would still be the one who would have beaten and scolded by dad. I hated that feeling back then, but now it feels all cute and silly. She always used to tear up my homework books and was usually the culprit in getting me caught back at school. Now when I think, I would give even the best of my books for her to tear, well I love her that much.

It feels like sisters are probably the most competitive relationship within the family, but once they grow up, it becomes one of strongest relationships. And I remember we used to fight like crazy and get back together, hate each other for our very existence and even blame the parents for giving me this being from hell. There were times when I walked to walk away from her, but I guess time changes everything, and now I look upon a most beautiful relationship between two being humans. The sibling love is very special. Over the years, she becomes your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She turns into your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the very reason you wish you were just a child. It’s that beautiful.

A sister captures your heart like no other. Especially when you have raised her as your own. The love you feel is as though she were your own child. Has solace anywhere been more comforting than that in the arms of a sister?

She has grown up to be a very beautiful women of her own. I saw her grow up from the time she was born, to that little ball of fun they gave me to this beautiful maiden I see now. All her life she has showered all her love and affection on me, she taught me everything I really needed to know even when she was so young and I will always be proud of being her brother.

Sometimes the best and worst times of your life can coincide. It is a talent of the soul to discover the joy in pain—-thinking of moments you long for, and knowing you’ll never have them again. The beautiful ghosts of our past haunt us and yet we still can’t decide if the pain they caused us outweighs the tender moments when they touched our soul. This is the irony of love. I love you a lot Nive and will always be happy for you. I will miss you dearly. I just have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright.

I look at the wonderful years which have passed me by. Those amazing times I have spent with her, enjoying the finest of her love and wrapped in affection for all these years from one of the most loved girl of my life. My little darling sister “For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.”

Little Miss Moonlight

2013-03-06T17:11:00.001+04:00

There she smiled, with that last scoop of ice cream in her hand. She never will forget this day, maybe I won’t. Those few moments I spent with her, those exquisite reactions she gave and those impeccable few minutes which passed me by. They all stay as some of the most beautiful memories I've cherished with a child. A child who had no hopes, a child who never believed in a beginning nor an end. And most of all a child, who didn't believe in dreams. I guess, one day from this day, she will start to believe. Believe in hope; in a world, which will treat her as a child once more. Hope is the most exciting thing in life my friend and if you honestly believe that love is out there, it will come. And even if it doesn't come straight away there is still that chance all through your life that it will.

It was a fine evening, a beautiful sky with the moon just shining in where I and my best friend kept looking at the endless sands which ran the marina beach, yapping about all the glorious years which have passed by and the many ups and downs life has thrown us through. My life was going to change in a few days, as my big day was soon arriving. I was excited and chilled at the same time. Its those days of your life when whatever runs through your mind makes a lot out of it, either in confusions or in clarity.

Sharing a million thoughts, we wandered around watching the eternal clashing of the waves, stood there and wavered our eyes to the million lights which dazzled at the far bound sky and the waters beyond where the ships were docked. We spoke of the lives of the sailors and their life aboard those giant metal boats, the universe and its greatness. I looked up the sky and saw a plane flying pass us in the silent wind, with just the lights catching up with the glitter of the stars.

I imagined of the time passing me by, as in a few days, it will be time again to pack my bags and move on to another land, leaving all my loved one and starting on yet another great journey entrusted on me; the journey of marriage. With a thousand thoughts we slowly sifted across the sands to reach the brighter part of the beach where many a things are sold and played with. I looked into all the different things which were displayed. All these reminded me of my childhood when dad used to bring me here in his motorbike. The beach going used be some of the best days of my life. It sounds so simple now, yet those days, getting ready, packing clothes, food and play stuff used to be such a task where in you feel beach is by far the greatest destination of your lifetime. But as years go, it’s a feeling of ignorance that takes over that you can go anywhere you want and however you want to and it so seems that just going to a beach for some people, takes years together. It’s still the very same beach with those endless waves crashing by. Time changes perceptions and along with it, change people. And all that stays are those little memories of yesteryear's which feel green as ever. How much time changes us, isn't it?

We crossed the sea shell cart and I remembered what my mother used to say… I still remember those words “Every sea has a song, take that shell and keep it close to your ears, close your eyes and listen… You will hear that song”. I have no idea to this day what that song sounds like. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think that it’s about something so beautiful; it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart feel light because of it. The music from those shells sometimes soared higher and farther than any of my dreams. It was like some beautiful butterfly flapped into my drab little life and made its walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every inch of my heart feels free.

We walked pass the endless line of juice shops and the parrot cages… Those cages remind of helplessness. With the invention of the modern astrology and its various colors from the internet to tarots, the poor parrot has somewhere lost its charm over the years. His clipped wings is all that he’s got and before we know he’ll be back in his little cage waiting his turn for brief freedom, until a another man walks in to know what’s in store for his future.

Our feet walked in slowly towards the road when a little pair of hands pulled my arms to take notice. I looked down and saw this petty young girl, curly hair and bright racy eyes filled with energy. She had a pileup of stickers in her other hand and insisted me that I should get one from her. I looked up to her and said… “I am not a kid, and what will I do with all these stickers?” she never took notice of what I meant and still kept asserting that I should buy from her. I ignored her attempts many a times and kept walking slowly and steadily towards the exit of the beach. She now turned her attention to my friend and began demanding her to buy at least one piece of the sticker. My friend also kept ignoring her requests and we walked together with the little one following firmly on our trail.

We reached the road and sat down for few minutes on the stone ball thinking hard on how to evade this unexpected figure. While I stood there, the little girl came back to me and pulled up hand and looked up to me. I looked down and asked her to leave because I wasn't interested to buy those stickers. She was now joined by her elder sister who had just returned from a happy sale.

While I was ignoring the ongoing request, I looked up at a far distance and saw an ice cream cart filled with children all around eating and deliciously savoring every part of the cream in it. I instantly had a thought in my mind. I knelt down to the little one, looked up straight into her eyes and asked her “Do you like ice cream?”… She gave me that dazzling look I so cherished to see. She looked at me with a face of explosive excitement and said “What about the money?” I replied “Go there, to that ice cream cart and buy yourself whatever ice cream you need and when he asks for the money, point him to me”….

And there she ran like a wind, towards the cart while I stood there with a heart as light as a feather…. Seemingly content in the glory of the heart, I stood there looking at a child run to an ice cream with all her joy in front of her. Her sorrows buried and the child in her reborn. I was just overjoyed!

She ran to the cart and got herself and her sister a chocolate stick and ran back towards me. They both sat down next to us and without asking them a single extra question, me and my friend just sat close to them, watching them as they ate their ice cream with all its moments of glory. The joy and the happiness which overtook those brief moments is one of the best things I could remember till date.

For a child who makes $1 a day with hardly any milk to salvage on, ice cream seems to be prime luxury and to get to watch a little child savor an ice cream like this in front of my eyes and making it happen for her was something very beautiful for me to share and go through. As I kept looking at her, a piece of me felt sad, that once she’s done with this ice cream, she will go back to selling stickers, her life will be once more belong to this cruel world waiting to devour her dreams. All I could do was to change 10minutes of her time. 10 minutes of hope which may be could bring in something for both of us. Hope that life will turn out better tomorrow and that something new will always happen to us. From this little child I have learnt something. I am grown up now, but may be in these years I could have done more. I should have opened my eyes more to this world…. May be I didn’t and I was wrong and I regret it now. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who looked at himself and his needs. I wish I could talk to him. Try and talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are in this world. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this grown man is all that's left. I guess I’ve got to live with that.

As both of them finished their ice creams, I looked back at both of them, patted their heads with content, smiled and said “Be happy and live as good children, have hopes and believe in your dreams… May be we will again meet or may not – God bless you both” And as I left I said “And don’t throw those plastic covers on the beach, promise me you won’t” they screamed “PROMISEEEE” we both smiled and left looking at each other with blessed hearts and thankful smiles.

I looked at my best friend, gently smiled at her for this wonderful evening, held her hand and thanked her for being there, for without her; my life would have been a lot different on my own. For the beacon of light she has become to me and for all those moments she has shared and cared, a silent angel, for who she is, guiding and helping me all along my life - I can never ask God for more! And as the saying goes “We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend”

We both left for home.

Solace at 35,000 feet

2012-11-12T15:57:00.000+04:00

At with a silent thud, the mighty metal bird landed softly on the earthly runway. From 35,000 feet down to zero with a ton of metal, flesh and emotions I landed back into Earth. The art of self being comes back to realisation that you’re back into a world of chaos to garner and your worries have landed back with you. Being up there is a feeling I consider special. The quiet wind gush, the virgin white cloud,the lonely lights and the travelling stars within this strangely filled universe. Strange people, stranger lands, life by itself is amusing here, right here, up in the air.

It’s like the way George Clooney speaks in his movie “Up in the Air” on How much does our life weigh? If we were ever to carry a backpack. What all are the stuff that we want to get packed into that bag. May be we will start with the little ones, and later the ones we need just because it’s there, and then comes the mightier ones and at last comes the people we most want. We start with the casual acquaintances, friends of friends, folks around the office... and then you move into the people you trust with your most intimate secrets. Your brothers, sisters, children, parents and finally your husband, your wife, your boyfriend, your girlfriend. You get them into that backpack; feel the weight of that bag. Make no mistake your relationships are the heaviest components in your life. All those negotiations, arguments, envy, losses, secret and the compromises. All our lives somehow come down to a single thing; moving!

I am someone who travels like nobody’s business. It’s the moving part which keeps me alive. The places, the people and most of all, the memories. It all comes from moving. And during those moves is when I learn the real art of knowing and understanding life on its very own. All this being said, there are times when our bags are too loaded for comfort and we can no longer move in harmony. There are times when our bags pull us down, these can be our misjudgments, mistakes or by the people we know. We still try to strive and bring our comforts back but there are these times when it does become our last straw. It is at times like these that I feel I should fly, a point when you just stop and go back to what makes you happy, and yeah, I want to fly. Be there, right there, up in the air.

I travel 70 days a year. That's close to 210 hours. That makes more than a week and I love it. Because each flight may be just a simple one but what makes it special is the journey. I don’t know how people look at journeys, but for me it so happens that each one is evidently becomes one of a page in my book of life. Right from the first one I took when I was 8 to the last one I am taking now at 28, every journey has moved me a little closer to understanding myself from a world of chaos I certainly can’t evade.

I always choose the window seat, I love it and it’s always a pleasure to look out at the world you leave behind and as you cruise towards the sky, you see the white cotton clouds swiftly passing beside you, it just makes your heart lighter. Out there for this beautiful universe, your just a dot passing through its immense matter, but for you; you’re out there looking out at the world below all by yourself through that magical little opening. The world feels small, the people feel lost, and the things mean nothing. You’re just a little dot on the face of matter, but still you’re above it all. To be there, right there, up in the air.

Up there, with the sky darkening and the globe revolving I look down on the little streaks of light which used to light up my world and now the only light which follows me are the flare of the wing lights flashing up my window ever passing second. To the world below you don’t even exist, you’re just a parenthesis, you’re gone away to a world they cannot understand. Your worth is nil and your value as much as the value of the person sitting next to you. It doesn't matter if you’re sitting in first or business or economy, we are all just a bunch of people, sitting tight and passing like a streak of light on the midnight sky. We’re just a bunch of tightly knit bag of emotions travelling through time.

Every time I settle down for the cruise I ponder my thoughts on the people have met, the lovely memories I have packed back and the journey forward, going home or elsewhere. I know life wouldn't remain the same as I wish it to be. To be in the air, up there is a part of life I cherish and love, for its silence and its solace comforts me, and I know that for a brief moment of my life I have disentangle myself from the chaotic world below and I cushioned myself away from the earthly grief’s and sorrows and I know its brief but it doesn't matter because the air up here in these clouds are so pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be? – it’s the same the angels breathe don’t they?

Within all of us, living beings is a varying amount of space lint and star dust, the residue from our creation. Most are too busy to notice it, and it is stronger in some than others. It is strongest in those of us who fly and is responsible for an unconscious, subtle desire to slip into some wings and try for the elusive boundaries of our origin; to cross borders and to fly beyond the horizons, to ponder to newer lands and to wander off this relentlessly beautiful planet we call home.

To know me is to fly with me, you’re my aisle and I’m your window look through me and I’ll talk to you about a life you've never known, the people I've known and more on the ones I’ve made through those little sweet trips I make around this world. If you ask me, there’s nothing much I’d like to say but my world is a little different my friend, you need to live it and see the way I do. It’s nice to know you’re a step above the world, up over the stars, at least for a brief moment of time. And when the sky darkens and the sound turns to its feeblest, most people finishing their day off will be welcomed home by jumping dogs and squealing kids. Their spouses will ask about their day, and tonight, they’ll sleep. The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip, passing over you.

And once you land back and move those wheels across the ever winding gates and escalators to reach the final gate and to see it open to the smiles and hugs of your loved ones. Well that’s where you discover the return of that sense of your very belonging. To know that this world, with all its chaos and colour is after all the only place that welcomes you with open arms. The love, the warmth and all those emotions you carried over those silent skies are to be reflected out here with the people who you belong to and that is what life is all about. And when you look back on all those amusing journeys of yours, this is what makes you feel it’s all worth it!

As Random as Life

2012-07-22T13:35:00.001+04:00

It was a lovely dusk breaking in the horizon of the sandy desert and I waved goodbye to the lovely people I met, conceiving within my mind, the spirit of the human kind is far beyond the reach of our understanding, and that goodness, like I always say, will come back to you, from where ever it may be. And all that you have to do is “Learn everything you can, anytime you can, from anyone you can - there will always come a time when you will be grateful you did.”

A lot of times, there is this little piece of me which just wraps up itself and flies away to far off lands. No maps, no ideas, no landmarks. Just no points to drive you or to lead you. These are those places which just spring out of no where. You never get there, they come to you. It's to those places I always land myself in and it is in these places, I mystify on the values of life, its people and its reasons.

I don't know how many people know me well, but to the very few who do know, I have this habit to unwind myself into this timeless existence where for brief moments of my life, I disappear into this wilderness of the unknown. I just take my car and go where my mind takes me. There have been these numerous accounts of my life, where I have gotten lost, got devoid of matter mentally and have lost track of time.

But in these journeys, have learnt one thing. I have learnt that the world is filled with so much of things; things which we miss, those little things which we always for some reason thought never existed. As a child I was always told to look up to adults, and I've wasted so much time, looking up to all those elders that at this point, I don't know where I lost those little pieces of my childhood. They feel like as if they are gone forever. And now am into these deep abyss of routines where many of those little memories still feel faded away in from far off corner of my mind.

I have given up many, but still talking about those little pieces of silliness, yeah, that's something I always carry to myself. I have kept a piece of that child very much alive and kicking.

It was a drowsy weekend, I just had nothing to do and having been that efficient office maker, I had nothing pending in hand and back at home everything was neat and tidy. Time just wouldn't move the clock and I sat there in the couch looking at the clock ticking slowly by. After a period of time, I just couldn't warm anything anymore. I got up thinking, let me go to office and see what sitting in silence might look like.

I knew it was a wicked idea to do in a weekend, but being the second day of the holy month of Ramadan, I thought may be its a good idea to skim the city and see how its like to be out while everyone is busy with their own chores at home.

I flipped the key out of the stand and was on my way to my lovely little Toyota. With those opened windows and sizzling warm breeze I drove to the office. The whole office was empty and was having a serene silence wrapped all around it. I sat in my desk and put off some lovely music and checked up some emails and just closed my eyes and enjoyed this escaped silence which I have never known existed within this office.

And then all of a sudden this wild plan just sizzled up my mind for a minute.

Got up, flipped back my keys and enjoyed that moment of randomness which ran through my heart. Its a feeling you may not understand unless you let it seep in. Its like a feeling of random freedom, where you stop following your mind and follow your heart. I was back in the seat of my car, hopeless, careless and clueless.

Sometimes when your alone, often understand that being solitary is being alone well: being alone luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice, aware of the fullness of your won presence rather than of the absence of others. Because solitude is sometimes an achievement, it gives you that inner rhythm to do something alone, which otherwise you wouldn't do in the presence of other. Awake that little child and take him for a walk, see what he wants, buy what he needs and make him run free. When you set him free, you will know that life is beyond borders. Life is more !

By now, I have driven far off into the lands of Shwaib and I was close to a 100kms away from civilization, driving though unknown lands, without a map, without markers and with music on and windows down, I was just lost in this illusion of eternity. My mind was pondering over all what has been happening within this week, the deserts which were passing, those few green bushes which were zooming by and for a small instance I had a look at my speedometer and it was clocking 110kms.

While I enjoy these moments and drive by, all of a sudden, there is this huge noise of things all over me, running across, running behind, I get freaked out and look around me, and there are these mad camel herds running from all across the place on the road. For a minute I freaked out and slam the brakes in all of God's name and the car swivels in different corners and swears into the sides of the roads and brushes close to a bush near by, slamming into the little plant with a slight thud.

The dust settles down and I am looking around, from the windshield I see this big bush right out in front of me. Smoke coming from the bonnet and sounds of camels all around me. I take out my seat belt and before I could see from the window, there is this small dark figure looking into the window, checking if I was alive and kicking alright.

I come out and these two little shepherd men with a small smile, call out saying "Salaam, Kaifa Haloka?" meaning hows is everything, are you okay? I look around the car and say Ya, kind off ! They both look around the car and signal me that everything is okay. I check everything up and down and kind off felt that nothing much happened. I told them how dangerous it is for camels to run on the roads like this and they answer me saying "Camels don't have brains, they don't see signs; all they know is if they see water or if they see another girl on the other side, they just run mad" I just laugh off listening to their naive response and start to get inside the car, when one of the them stops me and says "Time is 6:57pm, it is time for Iftar. And for those who don't know what is a Iftar, it refers to the evening meal when Muslims break their fast during the Islamic month of Ramadan. Iftar is one of the religious observances of Ramadan. So I obliged and stood there looking at the lovely dusk breaking the horizon far and beyond. It was a such a moment, I cannot explain what it was because sometimes within a moment of chaos, emerges a moment of reconciliation, where you realize, this world of mass is made of goodness and emotions.

After a few minutes of prayer, they came back to me, and asked to sit down on a mat, and on that mat, they opened the tea containers and bread baskets which they had kept on top of one of the camels. They set fire on the dry bushes and heated the tea, and giving thanks to the almighty, we all broke the fast. Being in that moment I realized that life is random, its sometimes these random moments of helplessness that sometimes helps you find yourself, your values and most of all your inner self.

Yapping away to glory, talking about the growth of Dubai, the oil, the camels and all kind of silly things, placing my back on the little car bruited by the bushes, we 3 sat there talking and sipping in our hot Arabica tea. When life throws me out into the open, its at those times it makes me realize “When we have come to the edge of all light that we know And we're are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, Faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on or You will be taught to fly”

Don't expect to land, learn to fly... Set yourself free, let your heart lead you to lands you haven't known, let yourself do what you've never done. Awaken that little child, let it play, let it run and let it fly !

Confessions from a Cairo Cab

2012-03-01T09:51:00.000+04:00

“We parted with a long hug, am sure he had tears, well; I didn't want to show mine. He looked me in the eyes and said ‘Will you ever come back?’ I didn't reply but I just said ‘Insha Allah’ and smiled back at his face. He pulled out my trench coat and gave it to me. I gave another hug and we parted. I gave a last look at the cab, that little black and yellow metal box wasn't just a car, it was just more than that.”

It’s a pleasant autumn of October 2008. I am happily seated inside a A340 Egypt Air on my way to the Land of the Pharaohs. The flight was late by an hour and for the first time in my life; I was being served food even before the flight had taken off. It was a bland Arabic blend of bread and salads. I had enough of it. Just ate what I can and slipped my head on the pillow by my side awaiting my lovely trip ahead of me.

Landing in Cairo :)

At 5:40 early in the morning I landed in Cairo International Airport, it was quite a chill morning and I didn’t have a clue of what awaited me beyond the doors of the airport. After sharing some humor by the immigration counter I was outside at the door step of Cairo what looked like a taxi market with all kind of makes and models. The taxi’s of Cairo are nothing my metal boxes made during the 70’s and the ones which were running were just the ones which have managed to have their 4 wheels connected to the engine. I cannot explain otherwise of how these are called.

Inside my hand bag was my secret weapon of choice, 4 sheets of paper crumbled into one piece stuck deep down my bag to give maximum security. I looked around is despair on which taxi I should take, it was a crazy sight when a 100 drivers storm you and your mind is frozen. I just said no and started walking to the end of the road.

Far away I saw a middle aged man sitting on the bonnet of his taxi and looking at the sky. He seemed carefree of the world and had no intension of driving for the rest of the day. I saw his face closely and he was talking to himself about something. I slowly walked towards him and and for the first time in my life I took it out my paper and read my first words of Arabic to this man. I said ‘Oreed an azhab fondoq Dokki?’ I didn’t even know if I sounded right or wrong. The man turned his head towards me and gave me a top down look and asked me in English ‘Did you just speak to me in Arabic?’ I replied ‘Well I didn’t, I think I tried’ he smiled back and said ‘you’re good!’ I felt nice within, glad to know my first attempt paid off.

After we negotiated the prices I looked at his car which ended up being a 1970′s something beat up Renault. I sat up front and showed him the address to the hotel I had booked that I had written down on the back of a brochure from the terminal. The driver smiled and spoke in broken English to me, I just assumed that he knew where the damn hotel was, but as soon as we reached a red light he asked me to wind down my window, and then he asked the driver for guidance in the cab next to him as I was busy trying to locate a map, and since my driver wasn’t paying attention to his front side he rear ended the car in front of him. Luckily since it was a habit I always had my safety belts on. My driver’s cigarette flew out of his mouth and landed in the crack between the windshield and the dash. Immediately the car in front of him pulled over, my cab driver pulled up next to him and yelled out in Arabic that “everything is okay, just minor damage.” I turned my head and noticed pieces of plastic tail light and bumper cover on the road. To me this was much more than minor damage; I could still feel the wreck in my neck. My driver continued on before the other driver was able to notice the damage he had caused. At this point I was really tired and starting laughing hysterically. Not because it was funny, but because it was ridiculous that this had happened five minutes after my stepping foot outside of the airport.

At the next traffic light the car my cabbie rear ended caught up to us, he pulled up next to my side of the car demanding that I roll down my window; I looked at my cabbie for his input. He nodded his head, as if to say, go ahead roll it down. Mind you I still had a smirk on my face from the hysterics I had experienced moments ago. I rolled down my window about half way. The other driver continued to swear at my driver in Arabic. I tried looking straight forward as to stay neutral. The driver of the damaged car must have noticed my grin and asked me in broken English “what fucking you laugh and smile for, my car no good you guy” I turned to the driver and told him the light was green. He had his pedal in his hand, I mean he literally had them in his hands and when he sat down he attached it to the top of the metal and started driving and following us through the congested streets of Cairo and all of a sudden my driver took speed and we lost that guy. Am sure one day or the other, that fellow will come back to haunt our cab.

Somehow I finally got dropped near Dokki and while he was keeping my luggage out I thanked him for being kind and getting me safe. He looked at me and smiled back and said, ‘Amidst a 100 drivers you left them alone and came to me’ why? I was a little taken aback that he had to ask that… But hmmm I replied saying ‘I too love looking at the sky at times, I know there is nothing up there, but I look up to something which gives me a smile’ maybe that’s why it made me come to you.

He came close to me and gave me an Arabic hug and asked me if this was my firs time to Egypt, I replied ‘yes’ he said ‘if you keep your luggage and come back down in 5 minutes I will show you something very beautiful to look up to’ I was surprised at his angle of thought. I said, what it is, he replied ‘5 minutes’. I looked up again and came close and asked him his name for the first time, he held my hand and said ‘It’s Mohamed’. I said ‘I’m Vasanth, nice to meet you Mohamed’. He smiled and replied ‘5 minutes’ hearing that I rushed inside the hotel.

Tahrir Square Bridge

I changed my clothes and ran down and he was waiting down smiling. I got into our same beaten up car and I asked him with excitement on where he was taking me. He said, ‘just wait’. He took a few roads and stopped by a coffee shop and asked me to check it out. We both got down and walked down to the coffee shop. A steep step took us down to the base and suddenly I looked out and I saw this huge body of water in front of me. I looked at him with a face of awe, it was the mighty River Nile in front of me. It was one of those simple but breathtaking moments. I grabbed his hands and ran inside to see more. It was a coffee shop built on a barge which was docked and floating on the river Nile. I sat on the barge and looked around me. The whole of my life flowed in front of me. The feeling of your heart running wild like a river is a feeling each of us have when we see the miracle of nature and how small we are in front of the almighty’s creations. The Nile was beautiful; I and Mohamed stayed there till evening and enjoyed those wonderful few moments of our little sweet lives. For once I forgot who this man was, good or bad. I enjoyed his company and believed in the good that was beside us and drank and yapped away to glory. Mohamed shared a lot of his life’s stories to me, his family, about his car and we laughed about a million different stories and the thoughts of a free heart were very much filled within me and these are what you call those miraculous encounters while being present in the moment watching the simple yet curious happenings of life in a big city where things are… a bit different.

The next day I was leaving to Alexandria and I will be missing Cairo for the next 4 days. Before heading out back to the airport Mohamed wrote his number on a small piece of paper and shoved it into my shirt pocket and said ‘call me when your back in town, whatever you might need’. I opened my handbag and took out 2 packets of KitKat and gave it him and asked him to share it with his kids. He gave me a dazzled look and said, ‘Please don’t give me such costly things, please take it back’ I smiled and asked him it was for him and no-one else. He gave a hug and thanked me and I waved him a loving goodbye and started walked inside the bus terminal.

After 4 wonderful days of touring, I was back in my hotel busy packing up for my evening flight back to Dubai. I was shifting through the entire mess I had made and hurrying up with the packing. While packing my dress, I felt something from one of the shirt pockets, and I took out this small piece of paper. It had Mohamed’s number on it. I thought about him and smiled and kept it back into my shirt pocket. My flight was at 9pm and the time was already 6:50pm and I had to rush down with my luggage and clear out the formalities with the hotel for the check out. I somehow managed all of it and rushed back to the road. The clock was ticking at 07:01pm. I was sure going to be late, I tried stopping every other taxi but no one would stop of even heed to the trauma I was going through. My heart was pounding and as I breathed I felt the paper hitting on my chest. I took it out and ran back into the hotel to try and give a call to Mohamed.

The Taxi :)

It was 20minutes since I called and there was no sign of Mohamed in those chaotic streets of Cairo. My heart was pounding as each second ticked me by. And somewhere down the lane I lost hope and I was literally begging for taxi’s on the road when suddenly I saw a burst of light and a screams of noise from a horn in a distance, I lifted my head and looked closely, it was Mohamed zooming his way down those chaotic roads. Within seconds he parked right in front of me and through the window yelled ‘you thought I’d never come didn’t you?’ - ‘For the last few seconds, I really did’ I replied and smirked. To the airport Mohamed fast I said and off we flew within those congested and chaotic traffic of Cairo.

I sat at the back seat and placed by head on the window looking out to a lovely city, the home of the Nile and giving thought to the lovely people I’ve met, the wonderful places have seen and to most of all the friendship I have shared with a man who I might never ever see again. Sometimes the richness of our very lives, found in the blink of an eye when we really pay attention to what’s going on around us can be so profound, we hardly can explain ourselves of the beauty it beholds.

I’ve spent so many years traveling this globe… experiencing life and its precious moment… pioneering creative life that in itself brought about deep wisdom for understanding the organic processes of change and creativity… And my knowing has come through miraculous experiences in countless foreign situations – in the moment – where I knew no more than what was right in front of me, as I learned to respond in a flash, to make the changes that would come. This is the mastery I developed along the way… and now, I am knowing, it’s time certain stories come to an end, just in time for something else to begin!

I got down at the airport and Mohamed took out and placed my luggage’s in the trolley in front of me. I looked up at the airport and looked at him. He slowly opened the front door and took out a small parcel and gave it to me. I opened it partially and saw a shawl wrapped in paper, even before I could ask, he said, ‘I’m sorry I came late because I had to buy it and come’. I closed my mouth and apprehended in myself that “Sometimes it's the same moments that take your breath away that breathe purpose and love back into your life.”

Mohamed and Myself - Our last picture together :)

“We parted with a long hug, am sure he had tears, well; I didn’t want to show mine. He looked me in the eyes and said ‘Will you ever come back?’ I didn’t reply but I just said ‘Insha Allah’ and smiled back at his face. He pulled out my trench coat and gave it to me. I gave another hug and we parted. I gave a last look at the cab, that little black and yellow metal box wasn’t just a car, it was just more than that.”

A part of my incredible journey shared for Indiblogger's “Incredible Stories” contest sponsored by: http://www.mahindraxuv500.com

Lost in a bottle

2012-02-19T12:19:00.002+04:00

That night I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I just smiled at life, everywhere I can.

I started believing in the moments of life, specially those little ones which we miss seeing. The ones which pass us and we're never the same ever again. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.“The greatest discoveries have come from people who have looked at a standard situation and seen it differently.”

It was a snowy night on the eve of New Years and we 4 boys were driving from Vancouver all the way upto Calgary National Park in our new Ford F-150 and I swear, the amount of snow we had was un-imaginable… But still it was always a dream for all of us to get there by car and to reach there by New Years. And with that dream driving us, we started our lovely journey….

Myself and Martin were university buddies, where as Mike and Brady were roommates and since we all knew each other well, we choose to do this road trip all across the state of British Colombia. And we were so damn excited about the whole journey. We started packing the week before and still felt we had to carry more. Because the temperature dropped down to -4 we were so sure we need winter clothes and that the snow is going to torment us with all its fury, we packed special gear for the same.

As we started driving, we took the Trans Canada Highway – the famous national highway which connects the east coast to the west coast and is one of the most famous highways in the whole world. The road till Kamloops was awesome, we roomed in at 90mph and after that the forest areas had started and driving went a little slower than expected.

After 6 hours we reached Banff which is the border town of Alberta and British Colombia and we had a lovely sip of hot coffee and we refreshed ourselves from the tiring journey. There was a big KFC in Banff which all 4 of us couldn’t resist, so we thought we could have a lovely dinner and we packed a full 4buckets of meat with cola and all which make a happy meal for us 4. While we 4 boys got back to the car I never realized that Mike and Brady had packed raw liquor for all of us. And there was a full 2 boxes of beer, good enough to have us all in jail for the rest of the year. Little did I know that all of this stuff was in the back of our truck. Well, we started driving again and a few hours later at around 11:40pm we reach Valley wood, one of the out towns of Calgary and surprisingly it was very much woody and the snow was making it horrible for us to navigate through.. We had no clue which was land and which was road. After a while there was a checkpost in a distance. Since I was completely obsolete with what was in the back of my truck, I happily pulled over the check post and showed my license and registration to the cop standing by. The cop was busy on his mobile radio and asked us to wait for 5mins. And after around 10mins in the dark he came over with a torch in his hand and opened the back door and asked Mike to get down, he saw the 4 buckets of KFC and then he pointed his torch over the other side and asked what that was?? We all looked over and it was a whole bottle of Vodka sitting right there and I was flabbergasted when Mike opened his mouth on his own and said, he has only 2 shots…. !!!

I looked at Martin’s face and I didn’t know what to say… I felt like chocking Mike and killing him for what he just did. In a few moments, Brady came close to me and said, “I just pray he doesn’t check what’s behind the truck; I said “Why what’s wrong with the back of the truck?” He said, “there are 4 bottles of Rum and whiskey and another 2 boxes full of beer” After hearing this I literally fainted. For a minute I had flash thoughts of me in jail with my parents crying and screaming, my dad trying to shoot me, my girlfriend breaking up and what not!!! I realized that this was my last New Years in the free land of North America.

While all of us got down, we were all asked to sit inside the police car. I got down along with my new Nikon camera, I had just got it from the boxing sale and it was brand new. It had a lovely 16 shutters per second and was an amazing machine. I was just looking at the few last pictures of my life which I took before I was being thrown in jail. While the officer was trying to check the others for documents and writing a report to place us on arrest, there was a sudden headlight zooming our way, and it got even more intense with the passing of every second.

In a few seconds, the zooming headlight, crashed inches away from us, injuring the officer and throwing him on the side of the road, the car crashed the post and drove away. I somehow I managed to take ma camera and take 2 shots of the back of the car. Even though we tried to go and attend to the officer, we couldn’t open the back door of the car, since it was a police car.

After a few moments the injured officer with wounds on his hands and shoulder came over and opened the door and yelled in the radio of what has just happened. He spoke that he didn’t know who it was or what make the car was… In that moment I slowly said to the officer “Sir, if you need can I show you the picture of the back of the car which I took?” He looked at me and said “What?? Are you sure you have it with you?” I said, yes I managed to take 2 shots of the car’s back side. He quickly took the camera and read the number plate to the central operator. After 15 minutes, the officer came over and opened the back door and asked all 4 of us to come out. He smiled at us, and looked at me in the eye and said.. “Son, we have caught that mongrel and he was the guy who burgled last week in one of the shops in the city” and I thank you for helping us nab him. Your quick thinking really saved our day. He returned my documents and thanked us once more. Mike in the meantime, took out the 4 buckets of KFC chicken and said lets celebrate, so the officer and us all enjoyed our New Years eve in check post deep down Canadian winter land and I was still praying that he shouldn’t check the back of the truck…!!

Finally at 1am that morning on the 1st of January 2007 we reach Calgary National Park and we drove deep into the woods to set up tent and after laughing over about all what happened, I asked the rest of the fellows to open the bottles, and Mike replied, we have none..!! I said “What?? You said you took 4 bottles of liquor, where are they? Mike replied, while the officer was checking his stuff on the radio, I was quietly throwing the bottles one by one into the leafy woods.” I looked at Mike and smiled and said “So beer it shall be boys” and we all jumped into our beer cans and lifted them high in the air yelled our cheers and laughed and danced around our little camp fire deep in the woods.

Boys and Girls, your lives are what you make of it, so go out and enjoy it with your best and make sure you make memorable moments with your loved ones. Life is once; never miss it as it passes - “Leave the beaten track occasionally and dive into the woods. Every time you do so you will be certain to find something that you have never seen before. Follow it up, explore all around it, and before you know it, you will have something worth thinking about to occupy your mind. All really big discoveries are the results of thought”.

Live and Let Go

2012-01-09T12:46:00.000+04:00

My grand dad reading from a piece of book once read “It would be better if, instead of a thousand words there was only one, a word that brought Peace. It would be better if, instead of a thousand poems, there was only one, a poem that revealed true beauty. It would be better if, instead of a thousand songs, there was only one, a song that spread happiness, and therefore to stay with one, you need to let go of the rest” To "let go" is to fear less and to love more.

How many times in my life, and how many times have you in your lives let go? Think about those million moments which has passed your life, just because you had to let go of them. You let go of your age, to let go of your short pants, to let go of your pain, your emotional bags and sometimes even letting go of your very own happiness, just so that someone else can have a smile. Letting go unknowingly becomes an integral part of our little sweet lives. Once in a while we feel bad that we have done it for someone near and dear, but remember "letting go" is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.

* Listen to this beautiful song as you read it : The Snow Before Us

These following words, ‘Letting Go’, ‘Releasing’ ‘Moving on’ These are words that come to mind when holding on to the status quo becomes too painful or takes too much energy in ones life. We do eventually waste a lot of time thinking on the events which we have let go. But the best of part of life begins with the word letting go…

Even when we're ready, it's seldom easy to let go. But when we do, both we and the other person can become the people we were meant to — love without feeling we must control or be dependent on the other for our happiness. The healing and release we feel when we're finally able to truly let go can't happen, however, until we allow a shift to occur within us, until we're ready for a new way of looking at things, a perspective that each one of us has to dearly carry in our hearts and minds to move us in a way forward.

We move in this so called society with total stochasticity, we have no control over whom we meet or who we give ourselves into. At times we make the best of mistakes rightfully knowing that we have no choice but to do it. How many of us think of a choice and decide our actions?

How many of us foresee what’s in store for us? Our actions, our mind have a lot more to do with what and who we are.

Here’s a Thought:

Take a moment, relax, breathe deeply and imagine you are a mountain climber. Visualize how you look dressed in your mountain climbing gear.

You are climbing one of the largest mountains in the world and are very close to reaching the peak. This is a goal you've had all your life. You’ve prepared yourself physically and mentally to reach this goal by constant training for years. You feel strong and great. You are about to begin the final stretch to the peak, when you decide to rest on a small ledge which juts out about three feet from the mountain. There is a sheer vertical drop beneath the ledge. You fasten yourself securely to the ledge.

You see another climber approaching you from below. Eventually he reaches the ledge. He lifts himself up and sits down next to you on the ledge. “Wow,” he says, looking over the edge, “It’s a long way down.” He’s wearing a rope tied around his waist and holds the loose end in his hands. He holds out the end of the rope and says, “Take this. Hold it tight and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

You take the rope and, to your surprise the man stands up and jumps over the side of the ledge yelling, “Don’t let go! I’ll fall thousands of feet if you do.” You hold on with all your strength. The man is suspended over the ledge, and sure to die if he fell.

You try to pull him up but he is too heavy. You offer suggestions about how he could climb back up the rope hand over hand. The man shouts back, “Hold on. Don’t let go. If you let go, I’ll die.” You tug and pull but nothing works. The afternoon is beginning to fade. It’s getting colder and the wind is blowing harder. You have to do something; otherwise you’ll not reach the peak which you can see through the mist and clouds.

You think of a way the man can wrap the rope around himself and eventually pull himself up and shout the instructions. The man replies, “No, please, please don’t let go. I’ll fall to my death if you do.”

You coax, wheedle, scream, and yell at the climber all to no avail. You realize you are running out of time, and if you don’t do something, you will not reach the mountain peak. Finally, in desperation you shout the instructions one more time and say, “If you don’t do this, I’m going to let go of the rope.”

The man responded, “No, No, please hold on. If you let go, I’ll die. Just hang on tight.”

You let go of the rope and climb to the peak of the mountain.

***

Now, take a moment, and think about the scenario. What is it in your life that you are holding on to that is represented by the climber? What is it that you are holding on to so tightly that it is keeping you from getting on with your life? Think about that thing at the end of the rope and think about what it would mean to let go of it? Was it worth staying stuck in order to keep that thing at the end of the rope alive? What really would happen if you let go of it?

Once you can imagine yourself letting go of the climber, you feel a tremendous emotion. The power of metaphors lies in the fact that they speak in the more primary process of the unconscious mind. Metaphors encourage unconscious processing of information. This will make it easier for you to really “let go” of your fears and past traumatic experiences by visualizing this story over and over.

Considering that we spend most of our lives in a slowly deteriorating physical shell, this pursuit is an exercise in frustration. This desire for physical perfection arises out of fear. Fear of not being pretty enough. Good enough. Desirable enough. And, of course, fear is at the root of unhappiness. Some will spend their lives chasing financial wealth, only to wake up one day and discover that all they’ve created is emotional and spiritual poverty. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being wealthy, except when that wealth defines us. If only we taught our kids (and ourselves) that being rich has nothing to do with money or material possessions. Some of us have spent years (and years) trying to ‘find’ ourselves.

Maybe it’s time to stop looking and simply let go of everything that isn’t us? When I let go of everything I am trying to do, be, create and own, there I am. And while I might do, be, create and own much in my life, I am none of those things and they are not me. I can’t be found in things. And neither can you.

Remember, you have already started letting go, right from the time you were born… You left your womb to gracefully enter this beautiful world, and one day you’d have to let go of what’s yours to the eternal unknown and in between that period what good you had held upon close to your heart is all what will matter to you!!

“It’s not about giving in or giving up. Letting go isn’t about loss and it’s not about defeat. To let go is to cherish the memories, but to overcome and move on. It is having an open mind confidence in the future. Letting go is learning and experiencing and growing. To let go is to be thankful for the experiences that made you laugh, made you cry, and made you grow. It’s about all that you have, all that you had, and all that you will soon gain. Letting go is having the courage to accept change, and the strength to keep moving.

Letting go is growing up.”

The Winter of Sweet November

2011-11-19T16:31:00.001+04:00

From The Globetrekker Diaries – Nordica

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive?

Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It becomes that something which is so worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. It's what makes people travel miles, that search and that journey which drives them towards that something which they feel they belong to.... Where miles mean nothing and money is zilch... All that ever matters is being with that someone you so cherish, that someone who completes you and the trouble is, if your don't risk anything, you just risk even more"

It was November, for me; the sweetest month of all. A journey I so looked forward to is finally here and I can't wait the excitement it carried for. With my heart drumming with its midnight moments, I moved into the car and the driver welcomed me with a warm smile, I requested him to take me to Terminal 1 and as we drove we spoke about the upcoming holidays and his life and about my trip to the North of the Europe…. As the shades of the city dimmed down, the car slowly entered the terminal buildings and I took my leather jacket, while the driver helped me with my luggage. I took out some cash and snuggled up into his warm palms and wished him a happy Eid. He smiled and wished me back with delight and waved me farewell.

I boarded my flight and a Texas man sat next to me, he wished me with a ‘hi’ and we both shared compliments along with where and why we were travelling and quite an interesting man he was….His name was Hardy and he works as a plumber in the 42^nd U.S Marine division in Fort Bastion in Afghanistan. After 6 months of heart wrenching work and struggle, he is now on his way to his hometown, but the story doesn’t end there. Back in the U.S his wife also works as a Army nurse with the 2^nd Battalion of the U.S Marines medical unit in Kandahar, Afghanistan and right now, she is finishing her 6 months of leave, taking care of the kids and the house. And the most impacting part of it was, right now, that woman is travelling all the way to Bahrain to meet her husband and she will be on her way to Afghanistan to re-start her duty with the U.S Marines. And that 3hours of transit they get in Bahrain International airport is all what they can see for the next 6 months. When he told me about his story, I didn’t know if the meaning of sacrifice was ever described this deep. I looked into his eyes and said, well mate; you sure make your country proud and am sure your kids back home will be so overwhelmed to see their dad come home with a big smile…. He shook my hands and said “The American spirit wears no political label. In service to others and yes, in sacrifice for my country, there are no Republicans; there are no Democrats; in the end, there is just me, as an American.” I looked up and smiled at him while the pilot announced that we’d be landing in another 5 minutes. From the window, I could see the lovely lights of Manama.

I sat down at Costa’s and sipping my coffee, I thought about this day I was waiting to unfold, a journey I so looked forwarded to, the people am about to meet, the food I am going to taste and most of all the colors which are going to paint my eyes, those blissful mesmerizing moments which cannot be described nor asked for, but just felt and melted down your heart stream. Travel can sometimes be such an addiction; every piece of it instills an impulse of discovery within you. The art of growing up is nothing but letting go of yourself from where you belong, to throw you away from your home and then lift you up and show you those panoply of moments which can be just yours if you just go for it.

I smiled within as my heart drummed up even more and I heard the voice from the speaker saying it was gates open for the flight, and I lifted the handle of my little leather case and walked my way to the aircraft and my soul whispered “In a matter of 7 hours, the breeze will be as chill as falling snow and the colors of fall will embrace me with delight” I look forward to…..

The flight landed and as I walked out of the Terminal, the breeze was as much as I loved it to be, a chill snowy gush of fresh breeze flew across me and in front of me was the Nordic. I finally feel it, I am here now!

I picked up my red suitcase from the belt and pulled down my little brown case and walked out to give a tight hug to a few of my best friends who were eagerly waiting on the other side to receive me….It was a lovely moment to make up those 5000 miles just to get here, somewhere beyond those thousand miles lies a warm thought that your away from the chaos of work and madness and your finally in bliss at least for just a week.

Scandinavia is ecstasy filled with colors and that’s how I would call it…. The colors, the people and the graffiti just make it one of the most revered places to me. The climate during fall is just amazing and the all you have to do is keep warm and walk away to where your heart leads to. The world is on the move and there is nothing you need to think than the list of places you want to see. Have a walk and keep discovering, that’s all you need to do.

I got a lovely Jacobson Creek white wine for the last day…. Even though I never wanted that day to come, I know it has already started as soon as I put my foot there. Well nevertheless time is an uncontrollable, unexplainable moment of events which just make up a big part of our little sweet lives and there is nothing better than filing those best of moments into a piece of your memory and labeling them as the best to be. I placed the wine in the center of the table to remind that all of life’s best moments have to be celebrated and rejoiced, for who are here with you now, might not be there tomorrow and to picture a moment of that celebration is one of the best things life can award you with.

One week is all what I have in front of me and this one week is all what I want - Eat, Love and Travel is all what I think I should do.....

To Eat:

“There are times I stood there watching the kitchen table dreaming of what to do and I run across to the side window and look down the empty street for 10 flat minutes and I know exactly what to do”

I am not great in cooking, but I love to do what I have learnt, I know it’s not always the best, but its all about what you want to do and most of all for who it is….. All those mix of spices and colors and taste’s mean so much when you know that at the end there is a lovely smile pending as you look at people’s lips tasting what you have done.. The best of life comes as a part of eating food and when you learn it best, it always works wonders in life. As far as I know, there isn’t a moment a lovely food has spoilt a soul…… Before I traveled I didn’t even know how to boil water. I was that ignorant. After months on the road and living alone for a long time I became an avid chef aficionado. Whatever you can imagine, I can cook it or at-least learn to cook it. Maybe not that much… But I certainly learned to love the arts of cooking and have learnt to produce the best dishes travelers around will find. It’s become so essential to me that sometimes I don’t even mind travelling with a Spices Kit, eh.

And learning to cook goes beyond the pleasure of a good meal. It’s an opportunity to relax, socialize and share a moment with your new friends. Its good vibe and I wish everyone embarking on a trip to do it for yourself and your loved ones.

To Love:

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn your whole life around, so go ahead and find that person who will love you because of your differences and in that search you have found something truly beautiful for yourself"

From the time I boarded the flight, the resonance of love has been moving me ever since. A full week of sharing love, doing things I have never done before and most of all earning the love out of people who have never been a part of my life before.

Just like in the heart of an atom lies an enormous power, which if allowed to explode can destroy everything around it, similarly, there exist moments in our lives, which if allowed to come to surface and open up, have the incredible power to demolish all the emotional blockages, that we take years to build, in order to keep our sorrows, hurts and suffering of our pasts locked up inside us. We lock them up so that we can survive and go on with our “normal” lives.
The lives that other people see us living. But only we know, that how other people perceive our lives to be, is not how our lives are. There is always an undercurrent of life that we live, along with a life that we live on the surface.

People say that you can only love once in your life. They say that you can never forget your first love or your last love. I say that there is no first or second or last love. There is only love and we love the people we are supposed to love when it’s their time to show up in our lives. You won’t be able to stop that feeling of love for someone when it is time for you to love him or her. Reasons don’t matter in the affairs of the hearts. Hearts come with a reasoning of their own.

And every love that you experience is different and yet the same. Each love leaves you with something immortal, eternal and changes you in an unchangeable way. And listen to me when I say this; “If you have loved someone, and that has not changed your life for good, you have never really loved”. To find out that your long gone away from that city, and to still pondering on how every little piece of the house, still holds strong a piece of you and keeps reminding the one you love, that someway or the other you still belong where they most want you to be…..
That is the unchallengeable power of love.

To Travel:

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”

I scribbled these lines watching out the early morning sky from the window of a Boeing Business Jet soaring on top of Warsaw, Poland.

Deep in my mind, I can still listen to all the travelers who are chatting around me; their usual conversations about where they came from and where they’re going next. Miles down below, the Earth is still rolling and the world is moving as it should be in paces of its own.

In many ways this is an idyllic scene, but to be honest, hours before leaving Scandinavia I was feeling a bit heavy and jaded about travelling back to the world of chaos where I sit and work. But sometimes when you’re on the road too long the spark of newness fades, and travel can feel like a long, pointless slog, a detour from loved ones and from life.

Then I started writing below what I learnt from my travels. Some made me laugh. Some made me wince.

But all of them rang true, and reminded me of why I travel: to learn and grow, to challenge myself, stretch my limits and foster an appreciation of both the world at large and the chair waiting in front of the woodstove back home.

I’ve learned how to thank in languages
I don’t mind getting dirty.
I have met several travelers who have inspired me to go further and see more.
I appreciate what it means to have a home.
I recycle more.
I drink tap water knowing many people around the world can’t.
I know how to do laundry by hand.
I’ve proven I can hike high altitudes.
I notice the colors of the world.
I appreciate the need to take a day off.
I’ve been able to do what I love (write) …
I look for challenges.
I listen to more foreign music than any of my sedentary friends.
I’m more aware of hidden fees.
It makes me realize how small the world really was and depresses me to think of those who will probably never leave it to go and see the rest.
I seek out world news and think about what it means in my life and in the big picture.
When I was younger, I used to think, “I wish I had her/his life.” Now people say to me, “I wish I had your life.”
I scour maps over breakfast.
I think about how my actions affect the planet.
It’s not uncommon for me to have interactions with people on three or four continents in a single day.
I appreciate a long hot shower …
… and home-cooked meals …
… and a comfortable bed more than I ever did before I started traveling.
I now have some understanding of history, which completely confused me as a kid.
I’ve made some of my closest friends through traveling and writing in the travel industry.
I think about ethics.
I watch more foreign movies.
I have a bucket list that includes countries beyond Europe.
I’ve learnt to fall in love with the World Map.
I’ve finally understood that “To Travel is to Live”!!!

I could see lights from a distant view and the flight was making a steep decent when the pilot voiced up saying “Dear Passengers, in a few minutes we’d be landing in Dubai International Terminal, the local time is 12:24pm and the weather is a lovely 24`celcius… We hope you had a pleasant flight and we look forward to seeing you soon in one of our flights” I looked down and I could see the lovely lights streaming out of Dubai.

This Globetrekker’s journey never ends; the next stop who knows, may be “The Amazons or may be New Zealand”!

Recalling the lovely lines from Eat, Love n Pray - In the end, I've come to believe in something I call "The Physics of the Quest." A force in nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity. And the rule goes something like this: If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you. You will eventually get what you want and will be where you belong…. Eat – Love - Travel

God Bless all of you.....

Up in the Air :) - Leaving Scandinavia

The Silence of Starvation

2011-08-13T13:09:00.000+04:00

I looked around me, there was food, so much food, and there was happiness, smiles, laughter and much more. But still, while the whole world feasts on their abundance, miles away Somalia bleeds and it’s bleeding till its blood burns dry. I just clutched my eyes tight with tears with helplessness.

I was back in Dubai, just in time for the holy month of Ramadan. It is always pleasant time to be in such a vibrant city. The whole city and all its businesses were gearing up for the holy month.

During Ramadan, the most amazing process is how the local people celebrate their Iftar’s which is the feast they open across to all their families and friend when they are about to break their fast. These Iftar’s are lavish feasts set for many people mostly from 20 to even 2000. The biggest attractions of the feast are the number of dishes which are carefully crafted and prepared for the feast.

While I was busy in the office setting up the brand communication catalogues, I got a phone call from one of my bosses who head’s the communications for the local region. I picked up and said hello… “Hey Vasanth, how are you Mr. Communications?” I smiled and replied for his concern and asked him what the news is about. He replied saying he is hosting a Iftar party for 20 of his very close friends and wanted to invite me for the feast. I happily agreed to the invite and said I will be happy to join him at the feast.

That evening, I reached the flourishing areas of Jumairah where there was a big villa lit up with all the cute LED lamps for the hold month. It looked amazing from far. I reached into the villa, and saw people walking all across the house, some workers carrying big baskets of roti, and some other wear carrying 3 baskets of meat and other things needed to serve the big feast. It was a lot of movement all the way. I slowly moved across the lawn to the big tent which was put up for the feast celebration.

I entered the tent and there was a big hello from the guests and I embraced them with a big hello and sat on one of the sides of the tent and looked around at the lavish arrangements which have been made for the feast.

There was a lovely welcome from the host of the feast and then we all began to eat on all the lovely dishes which were prepared for us. It took a lot of time to start understanding the dishes, because there were 90 dishes made ranging from 10 different types of roti, briyani, full Arabic dishes, to sweets and cakes and loads of different variety of desserts. I didn’t know where to start or where to end. But somehow I managed to begin and in a matter of 20 minutes I was full and couldn't move on any more with the rest of the dishes.

With a heavy bulge, I got up from my seat, and went ahead to wash my hands and call it quits to the eating caprice. While I was trying to walk a little in the green lawns of the villa, from a far distance, I saw the amount of food piled inside the tent. It looked like a mountain of food from here. I saw around the corner of the tent, where people threw their empty place. When I looked closely, none of the plates were actually empty. All the plates had enough food to feed two more people heart full.

I then walked across closer to see the place closely and in that 5 minutes I stood there, I saw plates arriving one by one, with full of food, pieces of mutton and chicken untouched and rice filled plates full. While food just got piled in front of me, my heart sank looking at what was happening in front of me. I remembered my dad say “Every seed of rice, is somebody’s labor and blood, never waste even a seed” I saw what lied in front of me, and couldn’t take it anymore. I walked fast into the tent, and called on the host and asked him if he can do anything about the wastage which I was seeing all this long. He replied “Oh come on Vasanth, this happens all the time, we are all rich, nobody’s poor here, everybody’s rich and who’s going to take all this food, it’s an insult if I ask them to take this food”

I looked at him in repugnance with what I heard back from him. I couldn’t understand how people took food so easily. That’s right, when they have never been hungry, how will they know the pain and agony of the hungry? How much does this city waste on generous servings and abundant choices on feasts, even before the official 'Eid' Feast to celebrate the end of the fasting month? And how much food is really wasted at this time of theoretical returning to basics or religious asceticism and less, not more; and this while far away from here the Somalis are forsaken and denied the opportunity to break a relentless fast that they did not opt to keep this Ramadan.This is the worst draught the Somalis have suffered in 60 years, significantly at a time when the world is accused of wasting more food and resources than ever before. It wrenches my heart to see what all people there are going through at this time.

Back in Somalia tens of thousands have died in the last three months. In cities like Dubai, many people go most of their lives without knowing hunger.They don't know the hard labor which goes through in making this food available for them. Life and food are so easy for them. Little do they know that 'One person in the world dies every three seconds because of hunger’?

Campaigns in the Gulf regions such as Wipe Out Waste (WoW) look at how people can manage the buying and consumption of food in a more effective manner during Ramadan to ensure a clean plate and a clean conscience. This month (and for the last two months retrospectively) we are compelled to think about the suffering from hunger in Somalia especially while it undergoes its most devastating draught.

Every year more than 1.6 billion people around the world partake in the inspirational holy month of Ramadan, fasting from dawn to dusk, abstaining from food, drink and sexual contact. Only those deemed sick, elderly or travelling, or women who are pregnant, menstruating or nursing are exempted and can break the fast and either make up an equivalent number of days fasting later in the year, or if physically unable, they must feed a hungry person for every day missed. Muslims are aware that the month emphasizes not wasting food which is 'haram' (a wicked, shameful act) , and looking after, as well as feeling for the poor and hungry, is the virtue extolled by Islam now and indeed all year round. As stated in the holy Qur’an: “Eat and drink but waste not by excess, for God loves not the wasters”.

My hearty request to all the people on saving food:

Don't buy more than what you need.
Make sure your fridges are set at the right temperature - to stall food from rotting faster.
Eat leftover food; some dishes taste better the day after!
Buy food in smaller quantities and eat food before it expires.

Our Ramadan Thoughts are with the hungry, but what about its action?

Right now, the world is busy on spending for wars and feasts but struggles very hard to help the Somalis, including children, who are dying of a natural cause? Even the oil-rich Arab nations have not stepped forward in any coordinated decisive fashion to date. This delayed or slow-coming aid and relief effort is deplorable, and quite tragic, given that so many in the world are throwing away food and resources.

Arabs and Muslims around the world are not forgetting Somalia- as the juxtaposition is not 'wasted' on them that during the season of giving thanks for food and good health, and feeling the pain of others, Somalia is experiencing distress and devastation cause by a draught. They are malnutritioned to the point of starvation: their hunger goes beyond the daylight hours of the Ramadan fast, ironically something they would otherwise be partaking in as a Muslim nation.

People generally buy 30 per cent to 40 per cent more household products than they need at this time. Hotels and restaurants over-produce and supply more than the requirement. In Bahrain, ordinarily, food waste reached more than 300 tonnes per day, but this figure rocketed during Ramadan. Approximately 500 tonnes of food gets thrown away during the month of Ramadan in Abu Dhabi. The alarming issue, which also has serious environmental implications, has prompted the government to launch a drive to curb food wastage. According to official statistics, one third of the waste generated in the UAE is comprised of discarded food.

While Ramadan is Kareem (generous), the religion insists on no waste: Islamic preachers have called on Muslims to consider reducing personal food waste this Ramadan as part of their religious responsibility, as outlined in the Holy Qur'an.

I bid him a disturbed farewell and walked out with a heavy mind. I looked at the workers throwing baskets full of briyani into the garbage bins, gave a deep sigh and in a distance, I saw two little kids sharing a piece of roti with each other. “What comes easy in our hearts as kids, that essence of sharing, why does it diminish all that too soon Oh Lord?”

I looked at the huge lavish tents and looked around me, there was food, so much food, and there was happiness, smiles, laughter and much more. But still, while the whole world feasts on their abundance, miles away Somalia bleeds and is bleeding till its blood burns dry. I just clutched my eyes tight with tears with helplessness.

* I credited 10% of my salary to the Help Africa Foundation. I request you all to be a part of this movement. If not for the donation, at least help spread the awareness of wasting food to every other friend you might know.

Stains from the Stolen Virgins

2011-06-29T14:39:00.000+04:00

“What would you do”? If you see your daughter as one amongst those women, how would you look into her eyes, how would you feel and what does your heart say? How would you fight when you know that; the one standing there is your very own blood?” Would you.....?

Why do you call it fear? Fear is an emotion experienced in anticipation of some specific pain or danger (usually accompanied by a desire to flee or fight)… Fear comes when you’ve seen something strange or unusual and you try to hide yourself from its outcome.

When I walk around the most developed cities of India, what do I see in the eyes of women ?, I see fear; fear not from some unusual kind, but fear from Nature, their very own kind which was created by God to protect them in this very land she was born to live. I see in their eyes, the fear of MEN!

Isn’t it a shame for a species to fear its own kind? What I see here in India pains me beyond imagination and there are no words when I read and look into the topics I read on the newspaper every single day. I spit in rage when I read news of little children being dragged away from homes, raped voraciously and left to rot and die beside garbage bins by the side of the road. Is this what men truly have become? Have they turned into this unconscious flesh feeding animals that lack to see and accept woman as their own kind?

If this is what men are to become, where is

India

heading to?

How much more can a woman run in her life? While she was born she ran away from boys who tried to pull her skirt down, when she grew up she had to be immune to all the sultry remarks made by her community boys, while she travelled, she had to exempt all those filthy rubbing and touching from all the men who wanted to taste a piece of her flesh and their eyes who could devour her off her entire dignity and humanity. When she matured, she still is fighting every single day of her life from taxi drivers, police men, lawyers, politicians and much more. How much more can she run, who can she go to?

I recently saw this award winning documentary from CNN about the ‘Nepals Stolen Children’ and got heart wrenched when I heard the true stories of every woman who shared her story. Deep inside as a man my sincere values for good men are falling apart slowly like the melting glaciers, drop by drop I loose hope when I see stories of woman raped, tortured and abused. Men have always wanted to keep the woman below his power and make the best use of her. I am not saying don’t keep her under your power, am just saying ‘Give her the due importance’ and love her and let her know you’d stand by her at all times. Give her that necessary support and guide her for the good and believe me she won’t even ask you a piece of your power you so enjoyed all these years without fear.

Men with their social borders are open to many windows of crimes and sometimes they loose those values and get themselves into the wrong minds. Organized crime is largely responsible for spreading human trafficking. Although sex trafficking—along with its correlative elements such as kidnapping, rape, physical abuse, and prostitution—is illegal in nearly every country in the world widespread greed and corruption make it possible for sex trafficking to proliferate. While national and international institutions attempt to regulate and enforce anti-trafficking legislation, local police forces and governments may in fact be participating in the very sex trafficking rings they are charged in preventing on the first place.

One overriding factor in the proliferation of sex trafficking is the fundamental belief that the women and girls are expendable. In societies where women and girls are undervalued or not valued at all in comparison to males, women are at greater risk for being abused, trafficked, and coerced into sex slavery. If women experience improved economic and social status a large part of trafficking would be eradicated.

Catch a little wild sparrow and place it into a tiny cage; lock it and look at it closely. You’d see how its brain goes demented and insane. It’s that feeling of lost freedom, a feeling which only a free human will truly sympathize. The women who are robbed of their freedom often the unfortunate victims go through several stages of degradation, physical, and psychological torture. They are often deprived of sleep and food, not allowed to move about freely, and endure physical torture. In order to keep these poor women captive, they are told their families and children will be harmed or murdered if the women try to escape the brothel or if they tell anyone about their captivity. Because victims rarely understand the culture and language of the city or the place into which they have been trafficked, they experience an additional layer of psychological stress, isolation, and frustration.

Often these trafficked women before they are integrated fully into the flesh trade they are forcibly raped by the traffickers in order to initiate the cycle of abuse and degradation. Some women are drugged in order to prevent escape. Once “broken in,” sex traffic victims often service up to 30 men a day and are vulnerable to sexually transmitted diseases, HIV infection, and pregnancy.

It saddens me when I see that 80% of the flesh

trade is induced by men who the victims knew very well… Friends, Relatives, Husbands and even Fathers! I recently read a story on how a 14 year old girl from the Indian state of Kerala who was sexually abused and molested by a 100 men from top politicians to film stars and well known socialites and in another story of a little girl in Uttar Pradesh raped and later stabbed in the eye so that she cannot assist in nabbing the culprits. Doesn't it bring a shame to the men involved in this, doesn't their skin evoke with remorse when they look back at what they have done? How does a man live in this world when he has known that he has crushed a life and the smiles of a little child whose innocence has now been guttled.

How do they call themselves as Men?

I always admired about the stories and tales of Real Men, men who stood with time to effectuate values for which the whole of womanhood always awaited. I admire those real men, Men who not only have values but try to bring in the best of notions for the woman who believes in him. Real men are concentric: you have to take fold after fold off of him before you get to the centre of his personality. You must get below his animal nature, habits, customs, affections, daily life, and sometimes go away down into the heart of the man, before you know what is really in him. But when you get into the last core of these concentric rings of personality you find a sense of the infinite--a consciousness of immortality linked to something higher and better. I believe some have just lost those rings of character and are now roaming as monsters without a leash.

No matter what have heard and what have seen, I still believe in Real Men. Out there on this Earth there are still men who hold the hands of their mothers, wives and daughters and cross these cruel front lines of terror keeping their women safe off from all dangers and trying their best to educate their families on the true values of what real men are and how to become one. I know that there still lies a strangling string of hope amidst these young boys who will one day join the society of good men and that this country’s woman can proudly stand beside them holding hands and will once again walk this proud nation with pride and freedom. And just like Subroto Bagchi says “Most men take more out of life than they give to it. A few give more to life than they take out of it. The world runs because of such men.” - One day; I too; will be part of such men…!

Remember women! No boy is destined to be a “john,” a pimp, or a human trafficker. Raising young men in circles of accountability to be respectful and protective of all women and children is one of the most important things women within the families can do to stop human trafficking. Talk to them about human trafficking as a modern form of slavery to help convince men and boys to become allies in the fight to end this form of oppression and we shall soon have a society free of abuse, prostitution and human trafficking. I am sure deep inside the layers of every man lives a spirit which somewhere admires and still holds green love for a woman for who he would change himself. In the documentary I saw how a brother traveled thousands of kilometers from Nepal to India to save his sister who was forced to work in a brothel, and it brought tears to him and me, when they showed him his sister wearing just a skirt and a bra and he ran towards her, hugged her wept in pain, nothing is as harrowing for a brother or a father, than to see his own daughter in such a state. Like I said, I still believe in true men. I once saved a prostitute from Bangalore, it still remains as one of the most profound action I've done in my life, and everyday it just makes my life so worth it.

In the documentary which aired in CNN on the Stolen Children of Nepal, through the visuals I travelled along with Demi Moore to Nepal to meet 2010 CNN Hero of the Year Anuradha Koirala and some of the thousands of women and girls Koirala’s organization has rescued from forced prostitution. How were they taken and where were they sent? It was a wonderful composition of Hope beyond borders and I render my humblest support and my resound salute to Ms.Koirala who is none but an angel to those entire trafficked woman and girls who are now living in the shadow and support of Maiti Nepal.

In the interview with CNN she said a few words which nailed my heart with resonance and she said “Look at those brothels, look inside those 10X10 rooms where those little girls who are 13 to 16years old, look into their eyes, look at their pain, and touch their bodies. Feel those blood stained bodies who are alive outside but dead by pain. Look into their eyes and see the pain they go through as every man passes and savages on her innocent childhood. These are girls of the unseen world. This so called brothels and prostitution houses which we consider as a third world action is not a world apart... and this article I write today speaks on its behalf. Please hear the voices from the children and the woman of that world. Let us learn from that voice... and let us ignore it no more. Ladies and gentlemen, Say No! No-More to abuse, trafficking and prostitution!

For all those few men; who still believe in pleasure that comes from blood soaked curtains recall these lines “What would you do”? If you see your daughter as one amongst those women, how would you look into her eyes, how would you feel and what does your heart say? How would you fight when you know that; the one standing there is your very own blood?” Would you.....?

Real Men don’t buy Girls!

Virgin Veils of Nirvana

2011-06-01T15:45:00.000+04:00

There are times when you stand alone wanting to give something to someone you love or admire, but you would not have it with you, and then there are times when you have the whole world to offer, and you still can’t help but watch them leave; this was that moment.

It was end of spring, a lovely sunny day by the end of April, in a day’s time I was scheduled to leave to the U.K and I was busy getting ready with the stuff which needed to be packed for the next days travel. While I was busy engulfed in the work, a slight knock on the door, I looked up and it was my dad, he came inside the room, and looked at me and said ‘before you leave, I want you to go to the old age home, where your grandmother was for 7 years’…. I looked up and said ‘Dad, grandma passed away a year ago’… He said, yes I too know that, but the nun who took care of grandma is finally leaving the home, and she has been appointed in some other place. So she called me and asked me to convey it to you and asked you if we can come to see her one last time before she leaves. I looked up at dad and said, ‘do you really think we have time to do that ? It’s just a day left for me and now there is really no chance for me to go there and send her off, sorry dad, not happening!’

Dad looked up and said ‘ok’ and left my room, while I continued with the rest of my packing, while calls and messages kept coming on the phone and I answered quite a few of those eager friends who wanted to know when we can meet in a coffee day or so.
I was eager to meet most of my friends before I left town and was trying to squeeze a little of my time so that I can have a sip of coffee and enjoy the few last talks of my dear old friends. I eagerly scheduled a meeting with all 5 of them at the nearest café coffee day and started packing even faster.

When the time came to get ready to meet ma friends, I got a call from of them and he said, ‘Sorry buddy, seems like most of them are caught up with something and can’t make it today, what about tomorrow?’ I smiled inside and thought, am I even going to be there tomorrow?... I replied to him saying it was cool, and to let me know when they are planning to meet me at the earliest’. It was late 5pm when I was 80% done with the packing and I was so tired, I just sat down by corner of the room and sat down to look what was happening through the window. The first thing I looked was an old grandmother who was walking tardily on the road, and while I was seeing her, I noticed a speeding auto coming her way, and just a hair thread he missed her and went zooming by, the poor old lady was so shocked, she lost her balance and fell on the road, and I saw a woman walking on the other side of the road who rushed by her and lifted her up, gave water and assisted her, and while I looked more closely, I looked at the little cross she was wearing. I closed my eyes for a moment, got up and got ready and in a few minutes I was in the car driving my way to the old age home.

In twenty minutes I reached the home, I slowly opened the gate, and it was pure nostalgia when I walked through those gates… It was exactly a year and a half, when my family walked through these gates to bring grandma out for her treatment when she became very ill due to organ failure, and three months later she passed away. But for all those 7 years, there was one person who stood by her and watched not only her moves but the moves of 75 other old people who lived and spent their darling old age amidst those brick walled buildings. The old age home had both male and female wards and apart from a total of 75 old people, there were 10 staff and 3 nuns of which sister Annette was the senior most, the other 2 nuns were trainees who has come from different parts of India to volunteer for the home. Sister has been a nun from the age of 21 and is from a small village from Kerela. She was appointed to serve in this old age home and she was one person who did all what she can for the welfare of the people who lived by her grace.

I remember when I used to go to meet grandma, she used to hold my hand and give me a few cookies, and when I ask her from where she got these cookies, she told me sister Annette gave it for people who managed to sit and tell a joke for the rest of the people. And for each joke you say, you get a cookie, and when I come to meet her, my grandma used to pass over the cookies to me. Sister Annette was someone who I really admired later on when I realize of the time she serves for the people in need. When I think it over in the depth of my morals, it reckons me innumerable values, this simple sister, who is she, she is that someone who takes care and washes the filth of the sins we as mature adults commit. It those little things in life we take for granted, that finally end up as massive sin, and these are the people who clean that for us…. When I look around this place, the many old people who have been neglected, I cannot do nothing but feel saddened and deeply worried about the life I will lead tomorrow, will it be the same way my grandmother dealt with it, or will it be even worse, only time will say.

I entered the building and looked around, and there were a lot of people sitting inside the church praying silently, and my eyes kept wandering on where I could locate Sister Annette, and I finally saw her in the corner, and when our eyes locked, her face lightened up and she slowly started walking towards the entrance of the church and once she was out, she ran and came across the walkway and gave me a tight hug and a wide smile and never left the hug for a few seconds. Then she looked up and said, your dad called up and said, you are leaving, and might not be able to make it, I was so sad I can’t see you, but something in the corner of my heart, kept saying I will see you, and I thank the Lord its finally true. I smiled at her, and told her how happy I am to come and meet her here before she left to another place to serve.

I asked her if her packing is over, she looked up and saw me in the eyes, and said, for the last week, there has been 8 deaths, and people I love and care about are just leaving me and going away to heaven Vasanth, I can’t stop them, I just feel left alone. I want to sit in a corner and cry my heart out, but there are many other souls I have to feed and I don’t have the time to sit and cry while they all starve. I just came back from burying 2 more of the dead and wanted to sit with the people here for a last prayer before I leave tonight, and they too kept asking me to bless them all with a prayer before I leave, so I was sitting when I saw you out by the door, and I couldn’t resist coming out and meeting you.

I held her hand and gave her the little box I had in my hand, she was excited when she opened it and she hugged me again and said, it was one of the cutest gifts she had ever received from some… It was a small wooden box with a glass crystal of a guardian angel inside in a praying posture. She said she loved it and would always have it with her by her side at all times. She held my hand and asked me to take a walk with her around the home which she has spent 7yrs of her life. I gladly accepted and walked with her side by side listening to all the stories she had to share of her experiences within the walls of this old age home. She even made coffee and as I sipped I looked around the place, I looked around the people and I looked deeper within my heart. This place holds memories of my dear grandmother, just like mine, it holds the memories of all the people who were loved and lost, their memories walk through these walls every single which passes by. This fragile life we live in sin’s us with so many things we don’t even have time to think about. After raising 9 children my grandmother was here for the rest of her old age, and so is the lives of the many more who have lived and died in these same wards.

As I moved on, many old grandmothers came and gave their hands and blessed me with no reason, may be deep inside, they get remembrance of their own grandchildren whom they would have only seen once or twice in their lives. I felt enriched with the pure bliss of having these people around me, people who can bless you with all their love and purity, a heart which seeks neither sin nor severity. The vicissitudes of life have contributed to the misery of all those elder souls who once loved and cherished us, I just wish people can stand here for a sec and see what life is all about. I was having a few cookies which sister gave me, and I was rolling them in my hand thinking about what life has in store for all these people and for Sister Annette has she leaves for another place.
Suddenly, one of the grandmothers just pulled me by my hand and made me sit beside her. She told me about her son who is working in the US, and found it difficult for him to look after her so left her at this Home. She told me that her son has a daughter now, but she has never seen her in her whole life. She cried as she kept saying how much she missed them every single day of her life. I gave her all the cookies and just hugged her and kissed her. Both our eyes were full; I had no words to say.

Finally Sister Annette and I reached the entrance of the door, she looked at me and smiled and said, she will be moving to a village where she will serve old people in helping them have a better living. I held her hand tightly and said to her ‘Deep inside I always believed in angels, and I know they exist amidst us as normal human beings, and that God lives inside them, you are one such angel’…. She held tight and hugged me and said, I guess I need to get back to the prayer with them, it would be my last prayer with all of them, and do keep me in your prayers’.

I left her there and moved away towards the gate, I looked back on the life she has lived, to serve and serve more and expect nothing in return. I know this trip of mine is just one of those days, but for her its one day when she gets the reward of all what she has done for the people and for the world of the neglected and exploited. She will always be in my heart and she belongs to heaven. I understand it now, ‘The highest form of worship is the worship of unselfish Christian service. The greatest form of praise is the sound of consecrated feet seeking out the lost and helpless’.

The beauty of the human self cannot be tapered to looks or the way they interact with each other, the greater beauty of the human self comes from the love and service which we wrap the needful with, and the most wonderful of all things in life, I believe, is the discovery of another human being with whom one's relationship has a growing depth, beauty, and joy as the years increase. This inner progressiveness of love between two human beings is a most marvelous thing; it cannot be found by looking for it or by passionately wishing for it. It is a sort of divine opera and the most wonderful of all things ever in life.

"I opened those gates and walked on musing ‘There are times when you stand alone wanting to give something to someone you love or admire, but you would not have it with you, and then there are times when you have the whole world to offer, and you still can’t help but watch them leave; this was that moment."

Dedicated to Sister Annette, who made me realize that the spirit,

serenity and inner beauty come when we wait upon God and lead a selfless life with service and devotion.

"She will forever be the rock and the wind beneath my wings and the wings of many more loved and lost..."

59 Minutes of Grace

2011-04-18T13:16:00.000+04:00

They gave her wrapped in a white cotton towel, and I looked at her for the first time, and I couldn't take my glance away from the little shining eyes which kept gazing me. I’d never seen eyes, as beautiful as these in my life ever. I treasured those lovely 59 minutes which followed in my life.

There comes a tale, a very interesting tale in every man’s life, and often many such tales have their roots in what and how these men grew up when they were boys. A boys life is as interesting as how makes it to be. The things he learns, the values he seeds, and the knowledge he garners. And that transformation from boys to men sometimes means the most in many peoples lives. A lot happens during these transformations. Many beautiful changes occur deep inside that little soul, and inside every strong, rigid, handsome man out there, deep inside lives a child who wishes to see more, to hear more and play more.

Me and Michael have been friends for 25 years now, we both joined school together and every passing year, life got a little fancier and eager to know more. We shared the same class year after year, and those were the days, we used to fight for those little pencils and the erasers he used to hide. The fights we used to have were a regular every single day. During the breaks it was always us who used to create havoc in the school.

Once while the math teacher was taking class, the school clerk came over to our class and informed us, that a huge honey comb was found near our class window shade and that none of the kids are allowed to go near it. It was more like a message of caution for the kids. When you tell kids, not to do something, it was always ‘JUST DO IT’ for us!

In the lunch break me and Michael religiously went near the window with a group of the so called courageous boys and threw a pencil at the honey comb, and what followed was a nightmare which ate us up for the next full week. In a total 14 kids were stung and 2 suffered nasty wounds in their lips and noses. When the kids were investigated, all the fingers pointed only at 2 souls; Me and Michael! We both were punished and asked to bring our parents and the matter went on for many weeks….. We both were such brats.

We both successfully finished school and joined in different Universities, once in a month, we used to hang around and talk and share all our boy stories, all the little mess ups we always ended up doing. Life as we like it, doesn’t stay the same, as years pass, so does many things which are embedded onto life… The little aroma of life keeps swaying in different directions. I finished University and left to Canada, while he finished his and left for New Zealand, where he joined Avionics and stayed on there for a whole 5 years.

Many a times, we both called each other and kept sharing and holding on to our dear friendships which still lingered strong amongst the many years which have faded and passed over by. Often our stories would wind up with girls, family, friends, and most often we used to share about whom we have met in our separate lives, the tales of people who have impressed our lives in ways of their own. And Michael often kept taking about a girl who he met there in University and kept mentioning her sweetness to many a times. I didn’t ask him too much about it, but it just kept happening every single time we were over the phone.

One fine day, on a chill winter morning, Michael called me up and when I answered the phone, he said “She’s the one”…….. I smiled on the other side and said… Tell me more! He told me all about her, her name, her character, her wellness, the complete story. For me, Jenny was a quite an impressive profile. She is a catholic who is also from India, well actually from Delhi, she too lives in NZ and has been studying with Mike for the last 3 years. And after listening to the whole story, I just said “Well, I am happy for you Mikey…” Am happy my dear old friend finally managed to score a very fine and first goal in life. To get a girl the way you liked her to be. I asked him on what’s the next big plan. After a happy 6 months, Michael got married to Jenny in Chennai. They moved to India once and for all.

On a sunny February morning, I tapped on the same wooden door which I remembered tapping 15years back. Waves of nostalgia flowed when I saw the door, and Mikey opened the door, and we both hugged each other so tight. As I entered inside the house, I looked around the house and slowly sat in the couch which was in front of me. Jenny came in and welcomed me and she looked very happy and blessed just like how I saw her in the wedding.

5 minutes passed, and Michael came inside the living room, with a neatly packaged white fur ball like object. He handed the little fur ball slowly to me, I held it slowly and wrapped in bright white cotton, was his little baby girl. With soft curly hair and bright black eyes, she gazed at me with so much wonder. To look back into her eyes, my mind was speaking a million words without moving a single muscle… She had such beautiful eyes. I held her carefully, and with my fingers slowly stirred her little curly hair, and I held her little fingers and when I moved it, she slowly raised her little hands, and grabbed my finger tight and didn’t let it go.

While I held her little fingers, in the depth of my heart memories ran rearwards of the glorious moments I and Michael have shared and relished as little young boys, the moments of fun we savored and the years which passed while we wore that scout uniforms and those cute little grey half pants. I remembered the days we ran around the trees, throwing stones on rival boys and days when stole chalk from the teachers draws. Life’s most enjoying moments as friends have rolled on to bring me into this unrehearsed moment of my life. A realization which I can’t understand how it is to feel as a father, may be it will take its own time to understand when I myself one myself. As a human being, I love and wait for that moment, when I could hold my little daughter in my hands and look into her eyes, and may be that moment, this whole wide world would just mean nothing in front of the angel I hold, I wait every single day for that one moment. Well, for now; me holding the little daughter of my best friend brings me back untold memories; memories which she cannot relate or would not understand. Thoughts of her about Mike would not even be close to what I have of him in mind. For me he will always be that little charming kid who I first sat with in the kindergarten, holding hands and running into the play ground, sharing cookies and stealing chalks. Most of all, Michael will remain as one of my best friends in my life. A friend who I made a million memories from the time I was a little boy. Our Friendship has been bliss, and “Perfect friendship is the friendship of men who are good, and alike in excellence; for these wish well alike to each other qua good, and they are good in themselves.”

The journey of transformation from boys to men, is an unsung rhythm which flows from the lives we cherished as little boys then, to the much stronger, responsible men we turn into now. It becomes into a journey which brings them from little boys, young lovers, and faithful husbands to respected dads. Their journeys are the ones which gather them strength for what it to come and serve for the families they make of their own.

While holding the baby, I looked at Mike and smiled, and slowly called him over and handed it over to him, and she still didn't let me go, I gently raised her hand and let go…. She was just a beautiful kid. I looked at my watch, and it clicked close to an hour. I beamed and bid goodbye to both Mike and Jenny, and stepped out of the little green door with a mind flooded with blitheness, joy and reminiscences of a life I have well cherished.

The memories of little Daisy, never departed my mind. The moment they gave her wrapped in a white cotton towel, and I looked at her for the first time, and I couldn't take my glance away from the little shining eyes which kept gazing me. I’d never seen eyes, as beautiful as these in my life ever. I treasured those lovely 59 minutes which followed in my life.

The Spirit of the fading Odyssey

2011-04-01T20:31:00.000+04:00

"It was time to leave, and it was late. I had been here for over 2 hours, and I knew I had to get back home, but still I told myself to sit there for just 5 more minutes. Somewhere out there, my heart whistled to me; may be in these last few minutes, I can watch him save yet more precious little lives from the face of this ever racing planet."

I've always loved travelling on the trains, and nothing more excited me than to sit down by the dark evenings on a not so crowded station and watch the trains as they pass by. From their sounds, to their shapes and speeds, till the smell of their very brakes burning while they halt in the station, everything commoves me of my being.

My house is situated 2 minutes away from the railway, and I've been comfortable with the sounds which keep coming from the station. From the announcements to the actual honking of the engines, I can pretty much hear everything on a non crowded day.

One such day, I was so bored and feeling lonesome, I just thought I needed a place, where I could just sit and have some time for myself, enjoy what am seeing. I headed to the railway station at 8pm that evening.

I reached the station in a couple of minutes and found myself a nice little seat beside platform 1 and once I sat, I stretched myself and kept glancing at the people and the local trains which kept screeching to a halt once every 10 minutes. And then suddenly I heard the noise of a man who was screaming at a young college boy who was crossing the tracks. I lifted myself up and saw what exactly was happening.

He was a middle aged man, might be on his fifties, wearing a un-ironed shirt and a trouser, not clearly shaved, wavy hair and had a very nervous look in his eyes. He was hollering all over the platform, shouting and screaming at people who were crossing the tracks, and every time he saw a train approaching, his voice would go over the roof. He even went to a point where, he himself would run down the tracks screaming that a train was approaching.

At first look, I thought this man was demented and not mentally stable. I was actually looking at all what he was doing, and at times I really couldn't conclude what he really was up to. And in a few minutes, another train came towards platform 2, and from the other side, he ran towards my side and was yelling at all the people who were on the tracks. Soon after the train left, he became a little silent and was standing just a few feet away from me. I could still hear his mumbling voice, and I heard him mumble “Why are they not listening Babu, I keep shouting and yet they don’t listen to me, tell them babu, tell them not to walk here, you tell them to listen, they certainly will, tell them babu”…..

I was a little startled to hear him talking to himself, but still, I was very curious to understand what was beneath, what he kept mumbling. So I took my time and when he was really close, I called out to him “Sir, why don’t you sit down for sometime”

He looked at me and said “No, its time, another train will come”, and I replied saying “No, it’ll take another 10 minutes, you can sit for sometime”….. So he came and sat on the other side of the bench leaving a foot of space between.

Before I could even say a word he said “Nobody is listening son, I keep saying, but just none are even lending an ear to my cries”

I asked him why he was shouting at all the people who were walking alongside the platform, I even warned him some people could take it harshly and end up hurting him. He replied me saying “If someone had done this, I wouldn't have lost my babu”

From there he told me something which melted my heart and broke me down to tears….

It was the year 2004, his son Mohan Babu @ Babu (how they called him at home) was studying his final year in an engineering college in the outskirts of Chennai city. He always took the local metro trains to reach college and back home. He successfully finished his final year and was eagerly waiting for his upcoming graduation day. On the noon of 19^th of May 2005, he and his friends wanted to go to college to see some of their professors and on their way back, when Babu reached his station, he jumped out of the train to the track, and while he was waving bye to his friends who were still in the track. Little did he notice the express train which was speeding on the very track he was stood. In a few seconds, even before his friend could alert him, the train smashed on him and he was dead on the spot; right in front of the eyes of his very friends. Babu passed away just a day before the very graduation day he waited for that long. He had even bought his graduation coat and hat and had kept it safe in the wardrobe to be dressed for the next day. He, was the only son in the family, and after a month of his death, his poor mother passed away from chronic depression and the whole family had just come to a stalemate all in a day.

His father later told me, that he resigned from his job as a clerk in the Chennai Corporation and now sells LIC insurances for the public. If he manages to sell at least one policy a day, he come directly to the station, take a platform ticket and tries his best to make people stay away from the platforms. He told me there are days when people have beat him and even police have beaten him for shouting at people, but he never gives up on this deed of his.

He looked at my face and asked “Do you think I am some kind of a retarded person? I said “No”, he said “I have nothing to loose in my life son, for; I’ve lost everything” My life lies swaying on these tracks, and until that time, I will try and save as much as sons and daughters I can”, One day I too will die on these tracks, nothing else will give me greater delight than to die in the very same place where I lost my son.

I was bemused in tears; I didn't know what to tell him, for this entire long, a man who I thought was mad, stands now as one of the most revered human souls I have come across his my life. That little moment I understood, life like it never was. A single moment is all it takes to take away your entire life from your very eyes.

I know this man is slowly dying his life, I know his little babu is gone and is never to come, but in his life this old man will end up doing more greatness than many others who boast they did. His silenced heart bore a million un-said words which left me flummoxed that day. Our lives are so fragile; sometimes broken lives are never ready to be fixed ever again.

I slowly wiped off my eyes and smiled at his face, kept my hand on his hands and slowly whispered into his ears “Sir, There is no higher religion than service to a fellow human being. To take your time and strength, get abused and still try to save those few lives for the sake of their good, am sure you’ve made your live much worthy than the many who begin to think who you are”

He smiled and replied back : “This railway station and these 4 set of train tracks is all I know, and all I ever want to know.”

The Salt Water Summer Soul

2011-02-28T23:03:00.000+04:00

"On that very dark night in the summer of 05; drifting away gracefully off the coast of Chennai, I was sitting on a boat which was perilously afloat in the Bay of Bengal with 5 men, a small oil lamp and a dinner for two…..”

I had just finished university in the summer of 2005, and looking beyond, there was so much of life and time out in my pocket. I was very much a lad who wanted to do something really evoking out of life at least, before I got a job, I wanted to do that something, which would show me the other side of life. While this thought was long spouting through my mind; me and my friend one day thought of whiling away our time at the beach. We sat there, thinking, talking and sharing a lot about what life has in store for us. And while I was throwing little shells into the sea, it suddenly struck me deep into my mind. Yes! I knew what I should do. That something was right in front of me.

The next Friday, I went to the sea side village of ‘Quil Thoppu’, a small village which lies beside the city of Chennai, mainly resided by fishermen who make their living in the seas. My dad knew a very good friend there, who owned a boat. I went in search of him and finally did find him too. I told him about my little wish, and asked him if he would like to be that someone who could fulfill it for me. He laughed over for a couple of minutes and asked me if I was 100% sure; I readily replied it was 500!

A lovely Saturday evening around 4pm, I anxiously waited near the pick up spot, and in a few minutes, we all boarded the ‘Holy Maria” a fishing trawler which could house 5 people comfortably. After stuffing all their gears inside the boat, we were ready to set sail. The Holy Maria set sail at 17:15 hours from the coast of Chennai. I stood by the stern looking at my city slowly fading away with the lovely sunset. A few gulls kept hovering above us, sounding goodbye. It was a sight which would never slip my mind.

I was in the middle of the ocean, the waves slowly washing us all over the sides, I could smell the deep sea… I felt surrounded by a force, so immense, I have never seen something so magnanimous in my life. I was in half fear, half astonishment at the bigness of nature and the enigmatical beauty it carried when compared to what mankind had achieved. Now and then I kept my hands by the water, to feel the water. It was awesome, and I knew this was what I wanted. In the middle of ocean, more than a 100kms away from the nearest shore, here we are 5 men and a whole lot of water. Oceans have always made me feel excited. Specially when I sit in the midst of the shores and think about life, its these oceans which thought me to pick and choose what you wanted from life, and let go of what you didn’t. Every time when I see the waves keep pushing things to the shore, it keeps telling me un-told stories of what and how I should sometimes lead a life. The very own Ocean’s way!

It was 10 ‘o’clock in the night, when all across us was as dark as the ends of the earth would look. The men took the nets and kept throwing it into the ocean, and while they were doing it, there was a huge wave which hit us from the sides. This was so unprecedented and there was no idea such a wave was coming, as the night grew, the waves struck us harder, there was a gush of sea water which flowed into the boat, and one of the men, ran inside and cried out “Water into cabin”. I was clueless of what was going on, because I just held as tight as possible onto the rod which was holding the nets, and I was just not ready to let go off it, come what may! After the waves subsided in a few hours, I made known of what had happened. One of the men, told me that the sea water has spoilt all the rice which we carried to eat, and that now we were left only with food for two people. I was really worried on what was going to happen now. We were in the middle of the dark blue ocean, with 5 men and just food for two, how more worse could it be? I thought its going to be a grave night, without food and water for myself.

It was 12am in the middle of the night when I woke up suddenly from my sleep, when I heard the sounds of men laughing. I woke up and went out to see that all the 4 men were seated in a circular manner, and there was an oil lamp amidst them, and they were smoking and laughing over something. I interrupted with caution and they welcomed me to sit amidst them. I smiled and asked them what was so enjoyable… They casually replied “The engine broke down”… I was alarmed! I looked at them with nearly tears filled up in my eyes, and asked “Are we going to die here or what?” One of the men came to me, and pat my back and said…. “What ever it is, even if we have die in this ocean, we will make sure you reach those shores”.. I looked at him and said “With no food, water, no lights, no power, and the engine not working, how on earth are we going to reach the shore?” He smiled back and said “Have faith, look at those bright stars above us; I have been in this sea for more than 40 years, and never has my faith let me down, and so will it; Today” A little peace egressed into my heart when I heard him say these lines. I knew he was talking from his heart, and I knew these men mean their words; or at least I wished and prayed they were.

I was sitting by the bow side of the boat, on a little wooden plank, watching up the skies, and deep inside thinking what if all this was a big mistake, I enrolled myself to be taken far beyond the shores of the city, beyond the miles of lights and water, deep into a space which I had never before wandered, never before cherished. While I was gazing at the clear sky, someone called my name, I looked down and one of the men came towards me and called me towards the side of the boat. I went there and there was a fish jumping inside the boat. It was a freshly caught ‘King Fish’… It was around a foot long, and still very much alive… I looked at it with an excitement, it was the first fish caught while I was there. One of the men came to me, and handed the fish and told me with a smile “This is for you; your dinner”….!! I was half excited, half uncertain on how this would eventually become my dinner. Before I could think of all this, two men kept a metal stove in the front of the boat, and were burning something…. I went around to investigate what was going on, and they were making rice, it was just a half a cup of rice. I didn’t look to much into what was happening. I went inside the comfort of that little cabin bed and closed my eyes for a while. After half an hour, there was a small tap on the door, I looked up and one of the men called me outside. When I reached out, there was a small chair, with a place of rice, some dhal and some pieces of fish. And all the 4 men kept looking at me, they all smiled and asked me to have my dinner. I was so happy. I sat down and gorged all what was kept for me. Once I finished my meal, I washed my hands and realized that none of them had eaten anything. I looked at them and asked them “didn’t you guys eat something?” They said, “You’re our guest today, we’re just happy, you had” and don’t worry about us, we can go days without food… At that moment, a pulse of reverence ran through my little heart…. I loved their life, their respect to my pleasures and their ways of putting it through. They kept a warm fire stove in the middle, and we yapped away to glory about their lives, the storms and the biggest fishes caught… A little while later, I was yawing and one of the men, slowly lifted me up and said, ‘If you want to, you can sleep on the top of the roof, there’s a small cushion you can sleep on, do you want to?? He asked…. I smiled and gladly nodded my head and said “I’d love to”…..

So I went ahead and took my place on the top of the trawler roof…. I put across my sheet, and lay over on my back, to see the sky…. What I saw, still now; remains one of the most marvelous and astounding scenes have ever witnessed in my life. Amidst the calm oceans of the Bay of Bengal, miles away from the sea shore, all alone on the roof of a fishing trawler looking at the dark black sky with a million or more stars winkling at me, and to know that all the travails that I had to go through and still make this one of a million moment; it was all just worth it. That moment I held my life by my heart and let it pass a little slower, I wanted to well cherish and bask in the blitheness of that one passing moment….

The next morning I woke up to the sounds of the sea gulls, it was around 5:50am and I looked around me, and it was the blue ocean all around me, and still one of the most wonderful sights I got to see.. For that moment, I heard the engine noise very feebly, and yes, I knew and prayed they would fix it somehow, and I guess by morning, they somehow did. I looked down from the roof, the men were busy pulling the nets…….. I forever loved to watch how they do it… I rushed down to see; they all greeted me with a happy morning… I ran down to help and pull down the net…They even strapped me in a life jacket and threw me into the ocean with the another 2 jumping after me... I floated for a few minutes in the deep ocean, it was a once in a lifetime feeling. I swam well and jumped back into the boat all wet and excited. Dried myself and in a few minutes, one of the men came with a small place of bread, milk and the best few pieces of fish we caught the night earlier. I asked them if they had their breakfast, they brushed aside my questions and just smiled and said ‘You eat son, we’ll have it later’… even after a few compulsions they didn’t budge, so I ate and I ate well, they had infact saved both the meals just for me. And just lived on the small scraps of the fish. I asked them ‘How did you get the engine working?, he replied with one word ‘Faith’….. We both smiled at each other.

At around 10am, we set sail towards the shore, dashing across the waves and off towards our mainland, Holy Maria, sailed through gracefully. A few hours later, we reached Chennai… my city was finally in sight… The roads, the cars and the scooters, the lovely light house were a blessed sight to be seen once again. I slowly took my little bag and jumped to the concrete wall. The men tied the boat to the shore and slowly made their way pulling their nets as they went. I waited by just to see all those action going on, and to see what all we had fished for that day. I did see a lot of colorful fishes and a few crabs too. I wanted to ask some, but just thought it would be cheap and so kept quiet without making a move.

Later, the chief man came to me and said “Come home, have lunch and then go”, I said… ‘Oh no I think I was more than trouble for you, it’s ok, I will leave now’, instead he insisted I should come.

He took me home. It was a sweet little thatched hut, but the village, they made me sit on the only metal chair that was available and in a matter of half an hour, the lunch was ready, and was served hot….. I ate my first mouth, and my eyes closed, my tongue sizzled and my soul flew away in delight… The curry his wife made, and the taste it carried cannot equal anything to the gravy’s have ever tasted in my life. In that little hut, I tasted food that day, and till now I am so sure, even heaven wouldn’t taste as good as that.

After having a yummy lunch, I gave a big smile and a heart full of lovely words to the lady, and came out of the hut. I held the hand of the chief man, I looked into his eyes and said, even though this was just a day in your life, for me, it will and shall remain as one of the closest days in seeing heaven itself. The beauty, the waves, your selfless love and most of all, you and your men’s heart…. I will always admire and keep you all in my heart forever. He gave me a hug back, and handed me a small bag with a few freshly caught fish in it. I didn’t have words to thank him, I smiled. He said ‘You were a part of our day, so you deserve it’….. I beamed with joy.

I took the train back to my home, and sitting by a lonely window, I slid my hands by the window rail and kept thinking of the wonderful moments which passed me. The lovely people I met, their hearts, their love and their life. I realized that people are all different, there is difference in who they are and what they do, how they do it… But in the end, love is all the same, it just seems to resurrect from the places and the people, you least expect it from. And when you realize that moment of love, you just don't want to let it go. You take a piece of that moment and follow it with your heart; forever with time.

“Yeah! every little moment was worth it, when I think of that dark night in the summer of 05; drifting away gracefully off the coast of Chennai, I was sitting on a boat which was perilously afloat in the Bay of Bengal with 5 men, a small oil lamp and a dinner for two…..”